Do I Wanna Know?
by Army Of Elves
Summary: After a dark past that's left Blaine Anderson scarred and wary of people he leaves a troubled home. Without his parents money to pay for Dalton he transfers to McKinley where he meets Kurt. From there they form an unlikely bond that changes both of their lives in a way they never would have expected. Badboy!Blaine
1. Chapter 1

_Lima General Hospital_

"Well isn't this one precious." A fake blonde with equally fake breasts said in a high-pitched, baby voice. "Hi! _Hi!_"

The head nurse Carole Hudson rolled her eyes good-naturedly at the woman's typical behavior. However, she stopped smiling when she realized which child the woman was cooing at, and immediately rushed over. Too late, the woman had the little baby in her arms. The baby wailed unhappily. The woman was not at all affected by the crying, insisting that she knew how to handle it. Carole pressed her hand to her mouth and stepped back. The blonde held the screaming child toward the ceiling: one hand supporting his head and the other cradling his bottom.

"Oh, oh. Shh, shh, shh."

The baby suddenly ceased his crying.

The blonde shot Carole a smug look. "See there-"

With a precision that Carole Hudson had never seen in her life, the baby projectile vomited right on his captor's face. The milky liquid oozed down her face and dripped into her cleavage. The woman stood there in shock, her face unpleasantly puckered in disgust. Carole quickly took the baby away. She used a soft cloth to dab the spittle from the corners of his mouth, then gently placed him back in his crib.

Carole had been the one to help deliver this little guy the night before. He had proven a handful from before he was even born. The way he'd been positioned in the mother's uterus hadn't called for a C-section, but it still had made it difficult to get him out. When he finally did arrive, he was a little underweight yet seemingly healthy, but had refused to cry at all. Now crying was all he did, especially when someone went near.

Without a word the blonde lady stomped out of the nursery, her heels clacking noisily.

Around the room many of the other nurses paused their work and stared. A few gathered around, staring at the small child in wide wonder. Under their scrutinizing eyes the child began crying again and harder.

"Don't crowd him." Carole cautioned the others.

The newest intern, a petite blonde from the south, peeked into the crib. "What devil child is this?"

Another girl reached for the blue information tag hanging from the bars, she read aloud, "Blaine-"

"Anderson?"

All of them turned around. Their eyes met a hopeful looking young man standing in the doorway, a young child peeking behind his legs. They shared looks.

"Uh-oh." Blaine Anderson's big brother Cooper giggled.

* * *

_Sixteen Years Later..._

The bright late-summer sun peaked through dark curtains, illuminating a disheveled teenage boy with light brown hair sticking out in various directions. The boy dragged his hand up the other side of the mattress. Finding nothing there it stilled and its owner groggily slid into a sitting position.

"Baby?"

Across the room a dim light emitted from an open door. From inside a boy with curly hair poked his head out, a toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth. The boy's triangular eyebrows lifted when he caught sight of the other boy now awake. The head disappeared back into the bathroom, followed by the sound of spitting then a running faucet. Moments later he stepped out of the bathroom, humming softly.

"Good, you're awake." He said, walking over to an old dresser. "Now get out."

The brunette still sitting in the bed went slack-jawed. "But, what? Baby-"

"I'm not your baby." Was his flat reply, then he began picking up the articles of clothing strewn about at random and tossed them at the no longer welcome guest. The clothes might have been either of theirs; it didn't matter, so long as Ben (a name he called all of his one night stands) had his ass moving.

'Ben' was given enough time to put his pants back on, then he was being unceremoniously shoved through the house and out the front door, still clutching a bundle of clothes. Without a second thought the door was slammed in his face.

Blaine rubbed his eyes with his palms and sagged against the door in relief. That one had been a weird one, picked up at a sketchy bar in west Lima and taken home with Blaine on his motorcycle without a second's thought. Clingers like this always made Blaine question his choices... in the end, however, he always bit back those uneasy feelings and continued making the same mistakes, though Blaine would be hard pressed to admit them mistakes.

He walked back to his room, tugging his dirty shirt over his head. When he walked past the window he glanced out. Ben had finally left the porch and was walking off, but not before hocking a loogie on his Harley as he passed by. Blaine smirked. The asshole would have a nice long walk home if he lived anywhere near where he was picked up. As he began to get dressed the guy was quickly driven from his mind; he was no longer his problem.

Blaine Devon Anderson was what many would call a _bad boy. _Maybe he was. He wasn't concerned with labels. To him he was just a guy, a little down on his luck in some aspects, that tried to enjoy life all the while doing what he had to survive. He had left home at sixteen. Left, kicked out, driven away, however it happened he was gone.

His life as a bachelor with no parents breathing down his neck was going on three months. He had a trust fund from his deceased grandparents and a small bank account that he rarely touched, and then was working a steady, legal job at some family owned shop... as far as his older brother was concerned. So he had been fired not even a month into the job. He didn't need that place with its obnoxious customers and greasy air. There were other means of quick money if it ever came to that. Other than that, Blaine spent the rest of his time emerging himself in music and finding warm bodies for the night.

It was almost the ideal life for a teenage boy. Sure it was lonely sometimes, increasingly so over past months, and he missed the days before he had this ridiculous image and lifestyle to maintain... Still, it was better than being suffocated by family or a boyfriend that he absolutely did not want. He hated being suffocated, and there were many rules set in place to keep that from happening. One such rule was the 'out before the sun comes up' policy for one night stands. That morning had been a little slow in that department, but at least everything was back on track.

Once glance at the old alarm clock on the bedside table sent Blaine scurrying. Thanks to Ben he was an hour off schedule. A hat would have to suffice in lieu of gel. Blaine threw on a plain black V-neck and dark jeans, grabbed his old backpack, then ran out calling, "Bye Coop!" before slamming the front door.

The batty old lady from next door was on the other side of the chain-link fence yelling profanities at a tree stump. She had been diagnosed with Dementia awhile back and her family had abandoned her. After she really became crazy many of the neighbors left. The property value on his own house was lowered as few others had been willing to buy next to a crazy lady, making the rent much more affordable. Thinking about her situation sometimes made him sad, but that was life.

Today would be Blaine's first day back at public school since the ninth grade. The hope was that he could make it on time for the occasion. It was the first day... of the second week of school.

It would be the last time he ever brought someone home on a school night, he swore to himself.

Ten minutes after leaving the house his Harley was skidding to a halt in the parking lot of Lima's newest coffee house, cleverly named The Lima Bean. He'd only recently began the habit of drinking coffee as a pick me up, particularly after nights like the last.

The place was a nice looking, low-key family type business a few miles down from the local high school. Surprisingly, not many people paid his appearance much mind as he got in the small line. He managed to catch the eye of a barista working the cash register and threw her flirty looks and winks while he waited. By the time he made it to the front and placed his order the poor girl was redder than a tomato and had possibly wet herself.

"Medium d-drip?" The girl stuttered.

Blaine glanced around; the other employees were busy and there were no other customers behind himself. He casually leaned against the counter and turned up the charming factor, then began shamelessly flirting with the girl. Bless her soul, the barista took the attractive bad boy in stride and kept up with the banter, going so far as to flip her hair and bat her lashes. After five minutes Blaine glanced at his watch and _remorsefully _announced his leave. The girl made clear her disappointment, but allowed him to slip away with his unpaid for coffee.

Once she realized what had happened - if ever she did - she would probably hate him. Blaine didn't care. In fact, he'd already forgotten the color of those eyes that he'd just spent three-hundred seconds pretending to stare into. The odds were he would never see her again. There were hundreds of other coffee shops and baristas to be played. If the girl was fired because of him then perhaps she would learn a valuable lesson on professionalism and stop objectifying customers.

Predictably, everyone stared at him from the moment he killed the engine in the school parking lot. In the hallways they parted like the red sea, watching him with fear and ill disguised curiosity. After a quick trip to the main offices to pick up a schedule and locker information, he went around searching for the English hall. On the way there he took in his new surroundings. As far as he was concerned it appeared to be a typical public school: unimpressive, dirty, chaotic. The change from private school wasn't totally unwelcome. So far he'd already seen one flamboyantly dressed boy get doused in an icy concoction of red dye number six, a hobbit and a T-Rex making out, and an _actual line _of people waiting to get tossed into a dumpster.

He might have been surprised by the last one if not for the countless stories he'd heard from former classmates that had once walked these halls.

It seemed that what McKinley lacked in integrity it certainly made up for in depravity.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel - _No, really_. That was his actual name_ \- _was _the _enigma of William McKinley High School.

Since beginning school there Blaine had spent a lot of time observing the boy. He never said anything because that would be, well, creepy. Not that watching him wasn't.

Kurt was average height, though his carefully coiffed hair gave him an extra few inches. His frame wasn't scrawny nor was he overtly muscular, rather he had a slender build that was often hidden behind layers of clothing. His eyes were a watery mixture of grey, blue, and blue.

However, it wasn't so much his physical appearance that made Blaine wish he could read minds. It was his personality, his attitude, that made Blaine the slightest bit desperate to try to understand what was going through his head. While it was quite entertaining watching him verbally spar with McKinley's worst and most idiotic, he must have been a lunatic to do so. At certain points in the day, almost like clockwork Kurt could be found either being body-checked, slushied, thrown into a dumpster, or whatever the flavor of the week was - pun intended, when it came to the slushies one could never predict what color they'd be painted. Moments later Kurt would be seen picking himself up off the ground or fishing his bag out of the garbage with the same bitchy, disgusted look, yet still kicking. Then Kurt was always waltzing around school wearing crazy, elaborate outfits, many of which looked physically exhausting. No matter how many times he got thrown in a dumpster or slushied (an annoyingly popular past time there) he simply brushed himself off or changed into another ridiculous outfit and walked on.

What further amazed Blaine was how much these jocks, Dave Karofsky in particular, seemed to hate him. Not just your typical teenage angst, but really _hate _him. What a scrawny glee club dork did to them to warrant such hostility was mind-boggling.

However interesting Blaine found it, he rarely talked to anyone often enough to find out why.

In the classes he and Kurt shared they had only crossed paths a few times; as it was the extent of their communication was a few furtive glances thrown across the room during the first few weeks, then the one time they were paired up for a French lesson. After the teacher assigned partners Hummel had slowly approached him, fear and wariness in his eyes. Eventually he must have realized that Blaine wouldn't try anything and they were able to finish the assignment with minimal conversation. During the exchange Blaine had been mildly surprised that Kurt's voice really was that high-pitched all of the time. That was the end of their social interactions during the first weeks of the semester.

. . .

The rule that he had set in place at the beginning of the year had been thoughtlessly broken when he took a guy home the previous night. The guy immediately left afterwards, but come morning Blaine was left with a raging headache and an ever familiar dull ache in the pit of his stomach. During his daily coffee run he had been unable to dupe the barista as it had been a buff, very straight male. It was a very real possibility that the guy was on steroids, so Blaine didn't even think about trying his normal nonsense.

Blaine sat in the back of first period clutching his throbbing head. A few of his fellow classmates sent him knowing looks that he pointedly ignored.

_Bang!_

The teacher slammed the door shut. The noised seemed to resonate throughout the room, increased tenfold by the hangover.

"Good morning class!" She chirped, walking over to the front. "It seems that it's that time of the year again."

A collective groan followed the statement.

"That's right, assigned seating."

Blaine gingerly lifted his head from his arms and glanced around the room, sizing up the potentials. His eyes leapt from person to person.

Stoner Brett in all of his smelly, tripping glory. Mike Chang. Brittany_, _who had somehow managed to get into an advanced class. A creepy blonde that was staring at Blaine, making him cringe and turn away. Hummel.

His eyes bounced back to the blonde who gave a little wave. He shuddered.

The teacher split them into pairs alphabetically, beginning with _'Z'_. In the end, he was the odd man out. This suited him just fine. He gathered his things and traipsed back to the lonely desk in the far corner.

Throughout the rest of the day most the other classes instituted a new seating chart as well. For whatever reason Blaine always ended up by himself. It was a cruel metaphor to his life: always alone and immediately given up on. He made a point to think about it too hard, the headache was taking too long to dissipate for him to care about much else anyway.

He slumped out of history and ploughed through the masses, taking a detour to his locker before going to French (the school had managed to screw up his schedule and he wasn't about to go through getting it fixed, not this late in the semester). The crowd no longer parted for him. Over recent weeks his red alert status had subsided into a mindful yellow, warning people to remain vigilant, but acknowledging that he wasn't an imminent threat. The lack of action on his part kept them from cowering in fear - that was left to the jocks.

Speaking of which: Diagonally across the hall from his locker Karofsky had Hummel backed against the wall, his large figuring looming over him and his fist raised near Kurt's face. They were locked in a battle of wits and Karofsky was losing. Kurt verbally slammed Karofsky while the jock struggled to mentally keep up. It quickly ended with Karofsky getting annoyed with their little game and forcefully shoving Kurt. The only adult around was the Spanish/glee club teacher Mr. Shue, but he didn't see it because his vision was blocked by an angry Sue Sylvester.

Blaine watched Karofsky walk away. Kurt slumped to the floor in a dejected heap. Something inside Blaine's chest tugged painfully. Maybe it was the familiarity of it, otherwise it was indigestion. With a huff, Blaine closed the locker and crossed the hall, stopping a little away from Kurt.

* * *

Kurt's eyes opened at the sound of approaching feet. He took in the dark leather of a pair of combat boots and thought that it was Puck, then his eyes trailed up and met a pair of unfamiliar honey eyes. Blaine Anderson. He wore his normal bored expression, only his expressive eyes gave away hints of pity. In his left hand he dangled Kurt's messenger bag that had skidded across the floor when he was pushed. The gesture shocked him.

When he first transferred the second week of school everyone had assumed that he was the new Noah Puckerman who had, in their eyes, gone soft. Blaine proved them all wrong by generally keeping to himself, then over time fading into the background. Even though now he wasn't seen as a threat he still held the bad boy title. Kurt didn't have his own opinions on the guy as they had only spoken once. From this point of view Blaine Anderson didn't seem so bad boy.

He had on dark jeans tucked into heavy boots, a plain white t-shirt, and his iconic black leather jacket to top it off. His dark curly hair hung over his eyes; ever since he'd transferred it had gone from shaved to where it could now be considered an afro. And of course, there was the bar through a thick eyebrow, the stud on his right earlobe, and the tiny hoop through his lip... So he actually was very much 'bad boy', but certainly not so much a hooligan or a bully. He donned the costume, but other than that there wasn't anything overtly terrifying about him, even from where he was looming over Kurt. Unlike when in the presence of Karofsky or some of the other jocks there wasn't an air of fear or hatred. It was just another guy.

The shock must have shown on his face. Blaine rolled his eyes and dropped the bag heavily in Kurt's lap. Rather than offer a hand up - not that Kurt expected him to - he squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Hummel," He sighed. "Do yourself a favor and stay down."

Before Kurt could reply Blaine stood and walked away.

. . .

Kurt stomped into the French classroom, ten minutes late, and made a beeline to Blaine's desk in the back. Blaine hadn't noticed him walk in and remained slumped in his chair, picking his fingernails boredly. He didn't even blink when Kurt slammed his palms down on the desk.

"What is your problem?"

"Okay class," The teacher said, looking up from her papers. She noticed Kurt standing. "Mr. Hummel, please take your seat."

Blood pulsed so loudly in Kurt's ears that he didn't hear her. "Answer me!" He demanded.

Raising a pierced eyebrow, Blaine sat up straight. "You annoy me."

"You've never even talked to me!"

Their raised voices began to attract the attention of everyone in the room.

"Class, pay attention! Mr. Hummel! Mr. Anderson! You can continue this after my class."

Everyone ignored her.

"You know I haven't done anything, right?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond but the teacher had made her way to them and grabbed his arm tightly.

"If you weren't usually so good, you'd be in a months worth of detention - both of you! Now sit." She directed toward Kurt.

With one last glare Kurt turned on his heel and walked to his own seat. From across the room he could practically feel Blaine's smirk on him. The teacher continued her class normally, and per usual the students ignored her. This time in favor of whispering about what had just occurred.

When only ten minutes were left, the teacher wrapped up the lesson and turned off the overhead.

"Thanks to a certain disagreement," Her eyes flicked between the offending boys, "I forgot to assign the seating chart."

As the second to last class for the day, nobody even bothered protesting anymore.

The teacher had drawn up a seating chart at random, so who Kurt would be stuck by for the remainder of the semester was anyone's guess.

As she named off students he became increasingly nervous. He ended up being one of the last in a group that consisted of Azimio Adams, a soccer player named Christian Vidales, and Blaine. Christian was directed toward the table in front of the teacher's desk and Kurt was sent to the back. He tried not to pout too much about it, but he knew he was already screwed.

"Kurt Hummel, I was going to have you next to Azimio. But I have a better idea." She said. "Blaine Anderson. Here, please."

Kurt's wide eyes followed the delinquent's journey across the room to the chair to his right.

"Let's see if we can't resolve our issues, hmm?" She gave them a pointed look that clearly meant, _'Behave.' _and then announced the remainder of the hour as free time.

For five minutes neither said anything. Blaine was bent over a notebook, doodling something, and Kurt stared at the opposite wall with crossed arms.

Blaine shoved the notebook away. "I was giving you some sage advice there."

Kurt jumped a little at the unexpected voice and swiveled toward Blaine, eyeing him warily. Blaine's eyes were staring straight ahead. Kurt might have thought someone else had spoken, but though he'd only heard it a handful of times Blaine's smooth voice wasn't something he could easily mistake.

"It would do you good to listen." Blaine finally looked at him. "You're welcome."

Since the beginning of the class period he'd calmed down a good deal, but rage flared up in him again. "And what would you have me do?"

Without getting out of it, Blaine picked his chair up and turned it toward Kurt, giving him his full attention. Kurt got the impression that Blaine had spent the past class period thinking this over and waiting for him to ask.

"You have two options: I'd love to tell you to try blending in," He smiled wryly. "But I know for you perky, glee club types that can be difficult."

Kurt would have been offended had that not been so true.

"Or," Blaine continued. "You could refuse to be the victim." The rest of his face remained impassive, but his eyes were so deep and bewitching it made Kurt forget to be angry.

"How?"

"Call them out," Blaine made a sweeping gesture, indicating some of the jocks in the room. "Confront _him_."

Blaine didn't have to explicitly say who he was talking about; he clearly meant Karofsky. Kurt blushed. He had figured the guy was smart enough to deduct how he'd ended up on the floor, still he'd been hoping that Blaine hadn't actually witnessed it happening. He wondered if Blaine had also noticed all of the other times. On the off chance that he did, why choose now to say anything? Then again, today had probably been happenstance; a freak encounter. Why would a guy like Blaine take interest in Kurt?

Kurt wouldn't get to ask any of these questions today because Blaine was speaking again, "Instead of coming after me, you could have gone for hammer hawk and bashed in his overly waxed eyebrows... If those toothpick arms are up for the challenge." He tapped Kurt's bare arm with his pen. Kurt flicked it away, sending it skidding across the floor, then jerked the sleeve of his cardigan down self-consciously. Blaine's stare made him uncomfortably turn away and begin packing his things.

"I don't condone violence. It doesn't solve anything."

"My last two problems beg to differ."

"I don't care. I won't resort to it." Kurt said firmly.

"Then my suggestion," Blaine got to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Join the track team."

Kurt stood as well, and followed him to the door. "Why?"

Blaine abruptly turned, making Kurt stumble a few steps backward. "Because you're going to spend the rest of your life running." Overhead the bell that signaled the end of the period chimed. Blaine didn't wait for a reply and walked away, leaving Kurt frozen in the doorway. Kurt watched him disappear into the crowded hallway.

"Kurt, don't forget your notebook." The teacher indicated toward the table he'd just vacated. Lying on top of it was the same one Blaine had been drawing on.

"Oh, that's not mine. That belongs to..." The name on the corner of the cover caught his eye. "Me?"

He picked it up. It was indeed his sketch pad, the one that was supposed to be safety tucked away at the bottom of his bag. His blood boiled as he flipped through each page searching for signs of vandalism. The nerve of -

"Oh."

On the very last page in big letters the word 'Courage' was printed neatly in ballpoint pen.

. . .

The next day shaped up to be equally as awful as the previous one before the first bell even rang.

That week must have been a record for Kurt. With the exception of earlier in the year when his dad was in a coma, never in his life had it felt like the world was actually out to get him. Kurt thought about all of the things he must have done in a previous lifetime to warrant being tossed in garbage, while he brushed said contents off of himself. He had been so close to making it into the school without incident when a band of Neanderthals picked him up from behind and pulled him off his feet, then dropped him in a dumpster and left. He had been on time, but now there was no way he would make it to class before the final bell.

Kurt pulled himself out of the trash and walked toward the school. While walking he shed his filthy outer jacket. Without it there was little need for further clean up.

Up until then he'd been on a roll. The glee clubbers hadn't suffered a single slushy facial or been dumpster diving in weeks; those torturous activities had simply gone out of style. The only bullying had been pushing and taunts, most of which came from Karofsky, and all of which were directed at Kurt alone.

Inside the school the halls were empty and quiet. After a trip to his locker to drop off the jacket Kurt was finally on his way to first period, taking his time. The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of rapid footsteps and a swish. Kurt turned around just in time for the contents of a large cup to be emptied in his face. Freezing red liquid dripped down into his shirt and onto a puddle on the floor. By the time he wiped it from his eyes the culprit was gone.

Apparently slushies were back in season as well.

. . .

With less than half an hour to spare, Kurt trudged into Math. He took the assignment from the teacher and passed his seat up in favor of going to the back of the classroom. He disregarded any feelings the last desk's occupant may have had about his company and sat down.

"How was the dumpster?" Blaine asked nonchalantly, continuing to copy down an equation from the board.

Kurt looked at him. "How did you-"

"It's the second Wednesday of the month, which means," Blaine flicked his pen in the direction of the window. "Trash day." Kurt's eyes followed Blaine's out the window where the dumpsters were in full view.

Without missing a beat Kurt deadpanned, "Soft as a pillow. I had a nice little nap."

He was happy when the lights dimmed; they effectively hid the heat that was spreading all the way down to his neck.

Blaine had seen him pushed around and endure the countless other tortures he was put through. Having his morning dumpster dive added to that list was absolutely mortifying, not to mention painful - there was a nice big gash on his side where a piece of glass had cut him. He made a mental note to clean it up and sterilize it when he got home.

Blaine leaned over sideways, his eyes glued to teacher, and said from the corner of his mouth, "No one else saw."

Kurt spent the little time left in the class period ignoring the strange tickling sensation on his left arm and mechanically taking notes while his mind kept going to the Karofsky problem and his Blaine solution. All he'd been able to think about the previous night was Blaine's advice. The mere thought of actually confronting Karofsky, and not just verbally sparring with him, was nerve-racking to say the least.

"What do I do?" He blurted.

Blaine started and hastily shoved a sharpie pen into his bag looking guilty. Kurt ignored it and continued to look at him beseechingly.

Blaine shrugged. "Confront them like you confronted me yesterday."

At nine o'clock the final bell rang and everyone left quickly, including Blaine. Kurt was the last one out, still contemplating what he should say, if anything at all.

. . .

_Confront them_. Easier said than done.

He couldn't even stand up to the people he called friends. Now he was lost in Ohio's very own Hogwarts almost two hours from home. Dozens of students tragically clad in red and blue blazers maneuvered around each other in every direction easily. Of course it was easy: they belonged there and knew where they were going.

A few minutes previously Kurt had managed to get stuck in a group of private school boys, all with a mission to get somewhere quickly. It was by sheer luck that they happened to be going to an impromptu performance put on by the Warblers. When they made it to the senior commons, he assumed from what he gathered from the boys' excited chattering, he slipped in with them and was able to get a spot near the door.

Now that he was where he was supposed to be he was able to breathe and take in his surroundings. Being stuck in a small room full of boys that actually attended Dalton made Kurt fully realize how mistaken he was when he thought he would be able to blend in with a simple red tie and bondage shorts. To put it simply: He stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet nobody paid him much mind; they were all preoccupied.

In the middle of the room a small group of boys standing in a circle with their heads bowed and hands clasped began harmonizing. Slowly the boys moved out of the circle to reveal a brunette boy and then formed a line on either side of him.

_The sun goes down_

_The stars come out_

_And all that counts is here and now_

_My universe will never be the same_

_I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came_

The Warbler's heads shot up and their a'capella tune became much livelier. Suddenly the doors burst open and a dozen more boys, all singing, ran into the room displaying various dance moves and jumps on their way to the rest of the group. Everyone in the room cheered at that.

Rather than allowing himself to get sucked into the performance, Kurt carefully watched the group.

While the beginning of the song had been very energetic with lots of dancing and jumping around on everyone's part, about halfway through just a little of the enthusiasm died down and it showed. It became clear that while very good singers, the Warblers were still a typical stool choir and tired easily. At the end of the song the Warblers were standing in a neat line looking much the same as when they began, if sweatier. The room burst into raucous applause.

Instead of leaving under the cover of the chaos Kurt stayed where he was and eventually everyone calmed down and began pushing tables and chairs back to their original places.

A tall boy with platinum blonde hair that stuck up everywhere slipped into the room looking flushed. He was the first to notice Kurt to his knowledge, but he didn't stop so Kurt wasn't bothered by it. Only a few other people noticed the blonde addition and watched him cross the room while giving him looks of thinly veiled exasperation.

The lead singer heard them and turned around. When he caught sight of the boy he smirked and called, "I'm glad _you came, _Sterling."

Their friends rolled their eyes and gave them disgusted looks, but didn't say anything.

The blonde boy with the crazy hair sidled up next to the lead singer. Rather than making a show of flirting back the he tilted his head to the side and whispered something to him. The lead singer's head shot up and looked directly at Kurt. Kurt's eyes widened as he realized that he'd been caught. Instead of trying to make a run for it as he probably should have, he looked down at his feet and awaited his retribution. He only looked up when two pairs of shoes shuffled up to him. It was the blonde and a round faced boy who had sang backup during the performance. They didn't look very menacing - in fact, they were smiling at him.

"Do you like coffee?" The round faced Warbler asked brightly.

. . .

Ten minutes later Kurt found himself sitting at another part of the school sitting at a round table, fresh latte in hand.

"It's very civilized for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying."

"We are not going to beat you up." Trent said incredulously. "Who do you take us for, Fight Club?"

Jeff kicked him under the table, and then looked at Kurt seriously. "We're not beating you up. Maybe give you tips, because I spotted you in like, five seconds flat."

"I'm curious," Trent said. "Why did the New Directions send you?"

Kurt didn't even bother asking how they knew who he was. After all, Rachel did post all of their performances on MySpace, YouTube, and Facebook.

"Yeah, I get it I'm a terrible spy." Kurt sighed. "It wasn't the New Directions that sent me. Just Puck and my stepbrother. They just wanted me to leave so the boys could put together a less gay performance for glee club." Kurt gasped at what he had just said and clapped a hand over his mouth. He'd really put his foot in it now. Trent's eyebrows were raised high and Jeff wouldn't even look at him, instead his eyes were staring down into his lap. They sat in awkward silence. Trent's eyebrows went back to normal and Jeff finally glanced at him, but he'd prefer both of them to look at something else.

"You rang?" The lead singer from earlier appeared at the doorway. One look at Kurt and his look of confusion morphed into understanding. He strode over to the table and took a seat to Jeff's left. "Nick Duval." He said, holding out a hand.

Kurt took it cautiously. "Kurt Hummel."

"Pleased to meet you."

Jeff intertwined his and Nick's fingers on top of the table and smiled at him coyly. They might have been having a laugh, but the heart eyes were so genuine and tooth decayingly sweeet. Kurt finally understood.

Still he had to put his foot in his mouth again and say, "Is everyone gay here?"

They laughed.

"Oh God, now I'm imagining gay Hogwarts." Trent chuckled.

"No." Nick said to Kurt. "Well, we - Trent, Jeff, and myself - are, but most of the others have girlfriends."

Though he no longer had anything to fear his heart was still beating fast causing the room to seem hotter than it really was. He pushed his sleeves up. Glancing down, he noticed black ink standing out against his pale skin. The memory of Blaine's weird behavior in first period resurfaced. He pushed down the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Blaine would write _courage _on him in sharpie without his permission.

Though the temporary tattoo was annoying and potentially cancer causing, like the doodle in his sketchbook it him feel better. Stronger.

"You go to McKinley right?" Trent asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. Kurt nodded. "Thought so. Not a very nice place is it?"

Kurt looked at him bewildered.

"Both Trent and I went to McKinley our freshman year." Nick explained. "Hated that place. There was this one guy, made it his life's goal to ruin mine when he found out I was gay. I didn't last a semester before I came here. I had been looking into Dalton months before that though."

The three Warblers looked at him expectantly.

"I'm the only out kid there anymore. There's this Neanderthal who's made it his mission to make me miserable and nobody - except maybe one person - seems to notice." It was suprising how easily that came out.

"That's rough." Nick said sympathetically. "And if I'm being honest, there really isn't much you can do, other than make sure you have a good support system and talk to them about it."

Kurt's face fell. He'd figured as much. The rules at McKinley simply weren't strong or imposing enough to be very effective.

Trent held out his phone to Kurt. "Give me your number and if there's ever anything you need, feel free."

After Kurt put his number into Trent's phone the Jeff and Nick handed him their's to do the same. Once they all had exchanged phone numbers they offered to show Kurt out. Happy to not have to find his own way back to his car, he accepted.

While they walked back through the school they made small conversation about much lighter subjects and Kurt was grateful for it, it took his mind off things for just a little while.

"Courage." Trent said, staring at Kurt's forearm. Kurt looked down at the words and rubbed them lightly. "Interesting concept."

"Oh, no. My," Kurt struggled to find a word that appropriately described his relationship with Blaine. "Um, friend, did that with a marker."

"A special friend?" Trent prompted with flirtatious wink.

Kurt laughed. "No. Like I said, only gay kid I know."

Trent grinned broadly. "Not anymore. Now you know three."

"We should all hang out sometime. We can discuss our fabulous lifestyles." Jeff joked.

The other two rolled their eyes goodnaturedly.

"Or we could go get coffee and talk about the rumored revival of Rent?" Kurt suggested.

"Fair enough. Text us a and we'll meet up sometime."

Kurt got into his Navigator and pulled out of the massive Dalton parking lot. As he drove out the gates he saw three boys waving him away through the rearview mirror.

. . .

The next day in math Kurt sat in the back again. This time it wasn't because of a bad day, yesterday had actually turned out surprisingly well, but simply because he wanted to.

"You weren't in class after lunch yesterday." Blaine observed.

"I wasn't."

Blaine looked at him expecting an answer.

"I had a thing that I had to do during school hours, that the teachers and my parents may not have known about."

"You skipped class." Blaine said simply. Kurt nodded. "I guess if I'm that bad of an influence, maybe you should go back to Brett. He's looking a little lonely over there."

"No." Kurt glanced at the ginger, who was attempting to smell his own shoe. "I'll take my chances over here if that means I don't have to smell the stench of homelessness. I can't take the smell."

"And how do I smell - in comparison?" Blaine rested his cheek in his fist and looked at him with bright, puppy eyes.

_Amazing, _Kurt couldn't help but think.

Even with the distance between them he could smell leather and raspberries; the scent invaded his senses and made it hard to think.

Rather than tell Blaine that he said, "I'm not answering that."

"Fair enough."

Kurt bit his lip. "I just hope I won't be forcefully removed."

If he was forced to move back over to Brett he might just fall to his knees and beg for mercy.

Blaine's lips twitched. "I think the teacher will give you a pass on this one."

They turned and watched as the Mrs. Terri approached Brett with a crinkled nose and informed him that it was not acceptable to put his bare feet on the table. This caused both boys to snicker.

After that Blaine actually initiated a conversation about the revival of Rent that was coming to Westerville in a month. Kurt was surprised but happily kept up the conversation. By the end of the hour they were talking about Kurt's dad's tire shop, after having been through multiple subjects. It supports Kurt how easy and natural it was talking to the other boy.

Blaine appeared scary and unapproachable, he often had a bad attitude, and he took advantage of people, but he was a good guy. Kurt hoped that Blaine wouldn't just grow bored of him one day. Blaine made him want to be brave and fight his own battles. He gave him hope in a place full of negativity and hate. If a bad boy and show choir gleek could accept each other despite their differences maybe everyone else could too.

Later that day when Karofsky slammed him against a locker something broke inside of him and he didn't think twice about running after him, Nick's advice be damned. He wanted to face his demons like a man.

Unfortunately fate threw him a curve ball that wasn't anticipated. Karofsky was gay and Kurt thought he was probably going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.

. . .

When Kurt woke up Thursday morning all he wanted to do was lie there forever, especially when he remembered the events of the locker room. Finn had to literally drag him out of bed so they could get to school on time. He hadn't had the energy to pick out an outfit the night before and threw on dark jeans and a button up. He had then been horrified to notice that he and Finn looked like they had coordinated their outfits to match.

He shuffled into first period with bags under his eyes and hair sticking up.

"Lookin' good Hummel." Blaine commented when he sat down.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How did it go?" Blaine asked, disregarding his question. Seeing the expression on Kurt's face Blaine's feigned cheerful disposition disappeared and was replaced by a more serious expression. "It's all over the school that you and Karofsky had an, ah, altercation."

Kurt blanched. "He said that?"

Kurt felt uneasy at Blaine's concern for the subject. Somebody had obviously said something if that was the gossip. Whatever Blaine had heard must have been proven right judging by how quickly his face was turning darker.

"Someone saw you follow him into the locker room yesterday. They wanted to know from Dave what happened in there." Blaine paused, seeming to decide whether he should continue. He finally sighed, then said in a low voice, "A few of them were evidently worried whether he was still straight."

Kurt held back a cringe. Vivid memories of the day before came flooding back, he had to focus on his breathing until he was able to calm down enough to push them from his mind. Blaine was too busy frowning at the desk to notice. "I heard them in the hallway this morning. Karofsky looked really freaked out when they mentioned it. It was weird."

"He's probably just afraid he'll catch the gay." Kurt lied. He was so angry that he didn't even bother considering Blaine might be homophobic.

Like the Warbler's Blaine didn't react horribly as was expected. Instead, he looked at him sympathetically.

. . .

It shouldn't have been a hard decision. Kurt should have been able to take one look at Karofsky and realize that Nick was right. All he could do in this situation was avoid the problem and rely on his support system. But where was his support system now? Finn and Rachel were fighting in the choir room, while Quinn jealously watched. Artie was playing parole officer for Puck. Santana and Brittany were nowhere to be found. Mercedes was sick. Tina and Mike were too busy in an empty classroom. It wasn't their fault that they had lives outside of babysitting him, so he just had to accept that in that moment he didn't have an available support system.

Even though following Blaine's advice didn't turn out so great the last time, he didn't want to back down just yet. He didn't blame the Warbler's for being safely tucked away at Dalton. If he had that opportunity he would take it without a second thought. Kurt wasn't at Dalton where the normal rules of survival didn't apply. At McKinley it was fight or flight, and he was sick of running.

This was no longer just about him either. Dave Karofsky was gay and obviously very confused. There were no excuses for his behavior, but Kurt thought that maybe if he talked to him he could help him. Kurt realized that confronting him didn't mean things had to get physical, they could talk things out maturely. If that worked then so many problems at the school could be solved for at least two people, if not more.

He would try to talk to Dave during lunch.

* * *

Kurt never showed up to French. His absence made Blaine's stomach lurch unpleasantly.

He supposed the only reason he cared about Kurt at all was because he had been in a similar situation not so long ago. After all that he had been through it seemed like he didn't care about anything at all, and often times it was hard to find reasons to, but he didn't want to see anyone else fall in the dark place he had. He knew Kurt was going through a lot and that he didn't let on how badly it was affecting him. Blaine had, in his mind, already screwed up his own life with the help of a lot of horrible people. He felt that even though he hadn't even made it to seventeen yet, he was already done. He never wanted someone as innocent as Kurt to feel like that. So when Kurt missed another class it was worrisome.

During chemistry he began to grow more restless and distracted himself by guzzling down water and fidgeting a lot. By the time the class was over his bladder was about to burst. He rushed into the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.

He was washing his hands at the sink when he heard a quiet sniffling in one of the stalls. Curiosity overtook him. The stall hadn't been locked and so the door gave easily. Kurt was slumped against the handicap rails, wiping his dripping nose with a wad of toilet paper. When he pushed the door all the way open Kurt startled, making Blaine jolt a little himself.

"Oh God, not you." Kurt groaned quietly and brushed past him.

Blaine caught sight of a bruise on his cheek. "Hey, hey. Kurt, look at me." He reached a gentle hand up by Kurt's purple cheek, but Kurt jerked out of the way. Blaine immediately dropped it.

"Please, just not now." Kurt said sharply, though he didn't appear to be angry with him, just embarrassed and a little in shock. So Blaine stepped back and allowed him to brush past and out the door.

Blaine's lips parted as he continued to stare at the spot Kurt had just vacated long after he was gone. It was a knotting feeling in his stomach that finally brought him back to reality. His jaw tightened and a hot flash struck his chest, rapidly expanding and filling his limbs with a fire where for so long there had only been ice. He slammed his fist down on the door and let his head rest next to it.

Even though he hadn't owed Kurt anything when he started giving advice and it was Kurt's own discretion that he chose to follow it, he felt responsible. He felt that it was his harebrained advice that put Kurt in a bad situation. It was easy to forget that not everyone was as gung ho as he was and that not everyone could hold their own in a fight if it led to that.

Eventually he left the bathroom still fuming. His frustration was further increased when he saw a McKinley Titans Letterman jacket. He didn't know who the jacket belonged to, but he did know whose fist was imprinted on Kurt's face. And Blaine swore that that person would pay for it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Were you aware that they are making the Hobbit into a new movie in 2012?" Blaine said, dumping his bag on the floor. His eyebrows furrowed. "I suppose it's a shame we're all going to die then."

"We can only hope they'll have mercy and release it before December twenty-first then." Kurt replied, not missing a beat.

"Ah, but here's the catch. It's going to be two parts. No matter what we'll never know how it ends."

"Notebooks out!" Mrs. Swanson called, closing the door and switching off the light. "No more talking if it's not French related."

Kurt ignored her. "Ever hear of a book Anderson?"

Blaine grinned, but didn't have the chance to reply.

"That means everyone." Mrs. Swanson said while looking directly at them. She wore a stern expression, but Kurt knew she was pleased by their civility.

The boys took out pens and began taking notes along with the rest of the class. Well, Kurt did. Blaine began writing notes to Kurt.

_I do read you know -B_

It was strange thinking back on just a little over a month ago. Then there was nothing but unfamiliarity and hostility between them. Now, weeks after the Karofsky debacle and Kurt and Blaine had since managed to maintain a friendly if not civil relationship.

They shared two classes and during those periods they often talked. Kurt was delighted to find that despite their outward differences and seemingly opposite personalities, they actually had a lot in common. And if Kurt ever bored Blaine with his rants on the goings on amongst the glee club or the latest news in gay marriage, the boy never showed it.

It's not like they constantly visited each other's houses or shared meaningful, longing looks (as much as Kurt wouldn't have minded either of those things). Just because Blaine didn't treat him like trash and vise versa didn't mean anything more than they were willing to not judge the other based what everyone else thought. To Blaine, Kurt wasn't just some freaky gay kid. To Kurt, Blaine was a person with feelings and a story beneath all that leather and bravado. For example, during those class periods he learned that Blaine enjoyed music, was a huge Buckeyes fan, and that he had a secret aptitude when it came to politics and government. Blaine also mentioned an estranged older brother and implied that he lived alone. Every tiny detail Kurt learned about him made him that much more intrigued and fall just a little more in love, which in turn made him feel guilty about practically hiding their friendship from his other friends.

Puck, Sam, and Mike were one thing, but many of the others still saw Blaine as a threat. To them the boots, leather jacket, piercings, and motorcycle screamed _bad boy: avoid at all costs. _Even though he never really did anything he still had a bad rap based mostly on looks and occasional attitude. Kurt often forgot about Blaine's reputation and appearance, and on occasion when he was forced to remember he wondered if it wasn't all a pretense.

Then there were the Warblers. Since that fateful day where he'd been caught spying they had hung out and texted each other. On several occasions he'd met many of the other members of the group, including their council. Most of them were decent guys and quickly accepted Kurt, even their uptight leader Wes.

In life things were finally starting to look up. Burt and Carole had recently been married at a beautiful ceremony, Finn was starting to truly become like a brother, the bullying had lessened greatly, his crush on Sam was dissipating after an intervention with Blaine, and he was in love.

Blaine turned and caught Kurt looking at him. Kurt grinned sheepishly. Rather than looking creeped out, as many people would have been, Blaine bumped Kurt's shoulder, then tipped his head toward a sleeping Azimio Adams. He blinked at Blaine confused. Blaine's lips twitched and his eyes twinkled mischievously as he balled up a sheet of notebook paper and surreptitiously flung it at Azimio's head.

Azimio jolted awake and accidentally knocked over Christian's water bottle. Cold liquid spilled into the soccer player's lap, making him jump out of his seat and stare menacingly down at Azimio. The rest of the class watched on as Christian shouted at Azimio and Mrs. Swanson attempted to calm the two boys down.

Kurt looked at Blaine and all traces of laughter slid from his face. Suddenly the prank wasn't so funny because a few seats over a pretty cheerio threw Blaine a flirty smile that he returned.

Being totally in love with Blaine Anderson royally sucked. It got Kurt down a lot more than it was worth, particularly on the few occasions he'd seen Blaine outside of school and he was flirting with girls. It probably shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, considering it was really obvious Blaine wasn't interested in pursing them, but every time he saw it a flash of rage would shoot through him. Luckily, Blaine never seemed to either catch on or be bothered by Kurt's feelings toward him.

Kurt tried not to look too put out when Blaine finally looked at him again with that big adorable smile of his. It was easy to when Blaine smiled like that. Kurt huffed out a content sigh.

Despite a few unfortunate situations, he was at the least actually happy.

. . .

"That Karofsky kid still pickin' on you?" Burt asked over dinner one Friday night.

At the mention of being bullied Red-hot shame flowed up from the pit of Kurt's stomach to his cheeks, making them burn. It wasn't exactly something he could help, but it being brought up in front of Carole and Finn was humiliating. Of course Burt hadn't meant to embarrass him, but that did nothing to alleviate the sting.

Kurt didn't look up at any of them as he shook his head.

In truth Dave had taken to avoiding him as much as possible. On the rare occasions that they did cross paths Kurt's life would be threatened, but no physical harm would occur. At first it had terrified him, then over time the shock wore off and he realized he had the power over Karofsky. The guy was too scared to even look him in the eyes, let alone bring him harm. Kurt actually hadn't seen him in a week or so.

It surprised him when Finn commented, "Kurt could probably take him in the state he's in now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked curiously. The kid was jacked like an ox and a head taller than Kurt, even Finn wasn't that stupid.

"You don't know?"

"Please Finn, get on with it." Carole said, knowing how easily sidetracked her son could get.

Finn finished swallowing. "He got the crap beat out of him. I'm surprised you don't know. He missed school, then showed up to football practice with two black eyes and a real bad limp. Beiste sent him home."

Burt looked between his sons suspiciously. "You didn't have anything to do with this Kurt?"

"Of course not dad. It obviously wasn't me and I don't know anyone who could have done that."

"What about that Blaine guy? The one you've been hanging around at school." Finn said.

An unpleasant feeling worked in his gut as the blood from his fingers to his toes ran cold and tingly. "What does he have to do with it?" Kurt asked. In truth he already knew. The second that name left Finn's mouth it had clicked.

"The rumor is that he was the one who did it."

An unfamiliar need to defend welled up. "Those are just rumors Finn." He snapped.

Finn meant well, and Kurt knew that he was only sharing what he knew about the Karofsky mystery, but he really wished the boy wouldn't. The last thing that he needed was his dad thinking that his new friend was some crazy delinquent. Regardless of how true it possibly was.

"Who's this Blaine kid?" Burt asked.

"Nobody." Kurt said at the same moment Finn answered, "New Kid, transferred from some detention center in Westerville."

"You don't know that." Kurt said quietly, looking down at his lap.

Nobody paid him much mind, instead they chose to listen to Finn continue around a mouthful of potatoes, "He seems alright though. He's like a modern day Robin Hood."

"Now I'm not condoning violence or revenge," Burt said carefully. "But I do believe in getting what's due. So if that Blaine kid was getting messed with, then Karofsky deserved it."

Kurt's stomach clenched. Knowing Blaine it was revenge, and not just that, it was done in Kurt's name. He couldn't have been defending himself, as far as he knew nobody at school had issues with Blaine, he mostly kept to himself. In fact Kurt was certain he was the only one at the school who'd had an actual conversation with him. A small part of him cheered victoriously that Karofsky got what was coming and from Blaine no less, but his conscience quickly took over and he felt guilty.

"I doubt even Karofsky would be stupid enough to start something with Blaine. I think he's alright, but he keeps to himself and he can be kinda scary. He's intimidating even though he's scrawny and small." Finn grinned. "Like Peter Parker."

Kurt shared a look with Carole.

"I'm still glad someone's standing up those idiots at that school." Burt said.

"I just hope Karofsky gets out of that cast in time to play at championships." Finn sighed.

Burt glanced at Kurt. "I'd feel better with him in it."

The Karofsky-Blaine conversation ended there and the rest of dinner was spent discussing the Titans' chances at the next football game. Happy for the change of subject Kurt even joined in, adding some insight with his limited football knowledge. Burt seemed so pleased by the news that Kurt didn't bother reminding him that David Karofsky was only one of the jocks at McKinley.

* * *

"Hey, Anderson!" An angry voice shouted, thoroughly breaking the peaceful silence.

Blaine briefly glanced up to see who was speaking to him. It was Levi Johnson a varsity lineman on McKinley's football team. He was nearly six feet tall and so broad his shirt stretched tight over his chest revealing huge muscles. At least a head taller than himself too, Blaine noted.

Levi didn't have much of a history in fights outside of wrestling but mostly due to his stature he could undoubtedly stand his ground. Blaine closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree he sat under, hoping this wouldn't end the way it appeared to be going.

Naturally the jock wasn't about to give up so easily. Levi left the group he was with and walked over to Blaine, a nasty scowl on his face. His enormous stature loomed over Blaine's smaller one that was on the ground. Sensing the other boys presence Blaine squinted up at him through one eye, appearing totally unfazed if not a little annoyed.

"You injured Karofsky. We're now a man short for this Friday's game." Levi added the last part as though it clarified anything. When Blaine again said nothing he continued, "I hear you think we should stop messin' with Hummel, that right?"

Blaine tilted his head, suddenly a little more interested in the conversation. Levi, fed up with the lack of aggression from the smaller boy, grabbed Blaine by the collar and pulled him to his feet. "You got anything you want to say for yourself before this gets ugly, Anderson?" The group that Levi had left came over and stood behind him. Most of them were fellow footballers and then there were a few cheerleaders. "We won't touch Hummel. But then we gotta take it out on someone else. Is that what you want, Anderson? Go on, say something." Levi accentuated the last sentence with a rough shove.

Blaine stumbled backward and just managed to catch himself before he fell.

"You think you're a tough guy, gettin' my guy? Prove it!" Levi took a couple of steps backward, his arms splayed at his sides an obvious 'come at me' gesture. His buddies formed a crescent behind him, their faces lit up in malicious anticipation.

"Oh, you're guy? I'm sorry, If I'd known that was your boyfriend..." Blaine shrugged unapologetically.

The smile on Levi's face quickly vanished and was replaced by a scowl. "So he can speak." Behind him his friends chuckled.

Blaine's pulse quickened preparing his body for the imminent fight. He shrugged his jacket off and threw it to the side where his bag sat under the tree. A few curious bystanders approached the boys and soon there was a ring of people surrounding them. From Blaine's perspective all he could see was a sea of Letterman jackets backing up Levi, so he assumed it was the same all around. With a heavy sigh he prayed that he wasn't about to get jumped. Unknown to him there was an even larger group of well-wishers backing him. Several New Direction boys who'd just left football practice were among them. Blaine tuned everyone else out as he watched Levi rip off his own jacket off and toss it to one of his teammates, using the pause to size up and mentally tear down his opponent. With an action plan in mind Blaine carefully rolled his sleeves up.

"This'll be quick." Levi smirked. Blaine silently agreed. "And afterwards I think we will go find Hummel. Teach both of you a lesson."

There was a wave of angry hissing behind Blaine. For the first time Blaine turned around and noticed the New Directions in their own Letterman jackets. Sam, Mike, and Puck were at the front of the crowd, and visible just behind them was a little gap large enough for Artie's wheelchair. All of them were glaring at their counterparts, looking ready to leap into action if need be. Though he didn't know them all too well he knew enough and remembered some things Kurt had said regarding them, and he couldn't help but feel all the more confident.

Blaine heard heavy footfalls and leapt out of the way just in time to dodge a punch aimed at his head.

* * *

"Finn, are you coming?" Kurt asked, stopping a few feet short of his Navigator.

"Hold on." Finn distractedly replied, beginning to walk in the opposite direction of his own car.

Kurt followed. He could hear distant voices from the direction they were walking, but that was all. Being a head taller Finn had the advantage of being able to see across the parking lot that Kurt did not. It wasn't until they were right behind a large crowd of noisy people that he could finally tell what the commotion was about. It was a fight. A rather large one at that.

"Finn, let's go." Kurt insisted, tugging on the taller boy's sleeve. He was ignored.

"Blaine's fighting Levi." Finn said in surprise. Kurt's heart dropped into his stomach. Without thinking he strode forward and attempted to push through the crowd. Finn stopped staring long enough to notice and hold him back.

"Hey! Whoa, slow down." Finn pulled him away and stood firmly between Kurt and the fight. "What are you doing?"

"We need to stop this." Kurt said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Finn clearly didn't see it that way. "_Noooo._" He said emphatically. "Bad idea."

Through a gap Kurt saw Blaine turn around as a fist came flying at his head from behind. Finn stepped in the way right as it happened, blocking his view and causing his anxiety to spike.

"Finn, that's Levi Johnson. He could _kill _Blaine." He said, trying to get Finn to understand.

"And if you get involved that gives the other jocks the okay to come after you, which will get all of us in trouble. It's like the rules of fight club."

Kurt gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "That's incredibly stupid."

"We don't even know what happened." Finn said. He did have a point. If they ran in with swords blazing and it turned out Blaine had been aggressor, then that would be really bad.

"Look, just please stay here." He made a heel gesture that in turn made Kurt roll his eyes.

He wasn't a dog, but he stayed nonetheless. Finn was able to easily push his way through the crowd to the front. From where he was Kurt stood on his toes in an attempt to see over some of the taller people. He only saw an unidentified fist fly through the air, and heard the aftermath in the crowd; half cheered loudly and the others groaned sympathetically. Judging by who did what he guessed that Blaine was at least winning. He anxiously tapped his hand against the phone in his pocket.

* * *

Blaine aimed a kick at the back of Levi's knees and took advantage of his loosened grip to slip out of a headlock and get another punch in. Levi was a much bigger guy than what he was used to fighting so it was more of a challenge. He wasn't worried though. The difference between now and all of the other times where he fought some drunken nobody in a parking lot or a dumb jock that had antagonized him was that he now had a reason to fight, there were higher stakes here. In addition to that he was angry, much more so than he could ever remember being. It was invigorating in a way. He spat blood on the ground, then wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He glanced up. Over the crowd a pale, scared looking face stuck out and caught his eye. For the first time he made a deadly mistake by freezing. He paid for it in the form of two hundred pounds crashing into him.

Too dizzy and uncoordinated to aim a proper punch, Levi had charged at Blaine while he'd been distracted and used his full weight to knock him off his feet.

Blaine felt the wind get knocked from his lungs as his feet left the ground. He flew forwards with enough force to propel him into the nearest group of people. Luckily he had the sense to rotate so that his back took the full force rather than landing head first. Due to his position the group had been able to catch him and he landed in the arms of Mike, Puck, and Finn. Blaine groaned and pawed at his aching jaw.

"Kick his ass." He heard the voice of Noah Puckerman from somewhere on his left.

Together the three boys gently but forcefully thrust him back into the makeshift ring. Blaine used the momentum to his advantage and tackled Levi who had his back turned. He wrapped his arms around the boy's neck and then used his weight to send them crashing down. Blaine maneuvered himself on top of the jock and began mercilessly punching wherever he could.

Without stopping he bellowed, "Get Kurt out of here!" in the direction of Kurt's friends. As he said that two more jocks emerged and lunged at Blaine. Together they pulled him off. One held his arms behind his back, while the other wound his fist back. Before the jock's fist could connect with it's target Blaine kicked him in the groin. Sam Evans immediately jumped in to help.

Mike turned to Finn, "You better get Kurt out of here." He said seriously. "If Blaine doesn't hold up, they're coming after him next." Mike then rushed in after Sam.

Artie and Puck watched on helplessly. Puck especially looked uncomfortable at having to stay behind in a fight; it was only his parole keeping him away. A few feet away Sam was punched in the eye and his resolve to stay out of trouble broke; Puck too entered the fray.

It only got more chaotic from there. A few people left. Most of the bystanders who chose not to get any more involved stepped back. The ring of people thinned out grew in circumference as more people joined the fighting.

It was the sound of distant sirens that finally broke the chaos up. Both participants and bystanders scattered. Puck threw in one final blow before retreating and wheeling Artie away. Mike and Sam weren't far behind. Levi had been among the first to retreat, having snuck away while no one was paying attention to him long before the sirens. Finn tried to pull Kurt away but was brushed off. He reluctantly followed Kurt's orders to leave without him.

Besides Blaine Kurt was the last one on the scene. The parking lot was nearly empty and it was completely silent.

He spotted Blaine under a tree, an arm wrapped around the trunk for support. He rushed forward. "Blaine!" He called. When Blaine saw him approaching he began hobbling forward. He only paused to grab Kurt by the wrist when he passed, and didn't let go even after Kurt began following, instead continuing to pull him along.

"What the hell are you still doing here Kurt?" Blaine snapped in a strained voice.

Kurt rolled his eyes. He pulled his arm out of Blaine's grip and wrapped it around the other boy's waist; he pulled one of Blaine's arms around his shoulder to support him. "Saving you." He gestured to the Navigator up ahead. "My car's right there."

He quickly helped Blaine into the passenger before hopping into the driver's side.

"_Shit._" Blaine groaned. "I left my stuff."

Kurt spun the car around and sped across the parking lot. He slammed on the brakes and jumped back out, then sprinted over to the tree and grabbed Blaine's jacket and bag. He froze for a fraction of a second and listened to the approaching sirens. He got back in the car and the door hadn't even been shut when his slammed his foot down on the gas. The Navigator sped into the neighborhood across from the school. There he parallel parked at the nearest curb and turned off the car. Blaine remained in a silent state of shock as Kurt jerked the passenger seat back into a horizontal position, then ducked against the steering wheel so that neither of them could be seen from the outside. Seconds later two cop cars zoomed past them and pulled into the school.

Blaine looked across the center console at Kurt. The older boy had his eyes closed and his forehead on top of the steering wheel; his hands clutched the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. A minute later Kurt reached over and pressed the button to bring the passenger seat and Blaine back up, then sat back in his own seat. He calmly started the car then pulled out and drove past McKinley. While Blaine watched the policemen searching the area, Kurt's eyes didn't once leave the road until they reached the main street.

"Where do you live?" Kurt asked calmly, startling Blaine. Blaine gave him the address when he finally regained the ability to speak. "I can give you a ride in the morning so you can get your bike." Kurt told him.

Blaine shook his head. "No need. I walked to school today."

They came upon a red light and Kurt took the opportunity to stare at him. "Blaine, that's almost seven miles."

"I needed to clear my head." Each word was said with increasing frustration. "What the hell were you thinking back there? _Both _of us could've been caught." It felt strange being the responsible one considering the circumstances.

"We got away didn't we? And now there's no evidence."

Blaine snorted. "Except JBI's blog and numerous YouTube videos."

Kurt sighed and continued driving.

Today had been one of those instances that Kurt go reacquainted with Blaine's rep. It was too easy to forget that Blaine had the bad boy persona going on when dreaminess and charm shone out his ears; then again, those characteristics were probably why he rocked it so hard.

He glanced at Blaine. Even slumped back in his seat with eyes closed he looked gorgeous.

Kurt didn't look it, but on the inside he felt like passing out. Over the course of about ten minutes his status of baby penguin had been blacked out and changed to accomplice. Sure, he hadn't actually been the one in a fight, but he did drive the getaway car and then hide from the police. None of this ever would have happened had he not been put next to Blaine Anderson in class. He could only hope that it wouldn't become a regular thing.

Twenty awkward minutes later the Navigator pulled into the cracked driveway of an older two story house. Kurt was surprised by how well kept up it was. Naturally, the white paint was peeling and there were rusty patches on the front porch's railing as was expected from a house that appeared to have been built before the sixties. Unlike its neighbors however, the lawn was recently mowed and the foliage around the house was in full bloom as opposed to wilted. Compared to the surrounding neighborhood the house was actually quite nice.

Kurt was snapped out of his thoughts by Blaine's door slamming. Blaine walked to the front of the car and watched Kurt expectantly. Kurt hesitantly opened his own door and stepped out. Blaine rolled his eyes and motioned for him to follow. Kurt awkwardly walked up the drive.

Blaine Anderson was inviting him into his home. Something about this seemed so much more personal than if it was anyone else's house. Maybe it was because Blaine was such an enigma at school, or it could have been the nagging feeling that this wasn't a normal occurrence. For some reason he just couldn't get it out of his head. Being nice and friendly to each other in school was one thing, but being actual friends just threw Kurt for some reason. Like a 'I'm here, now what?' kind of moment.

"As your champion don't you think you owe me a few minutes of your time?" Blaine teased, turning to Kurt with comically raised eyebrows. When Kurt remained unsure he added, "Come on, live a little."

"Um, I don't -"

Blaine opened the door without a key; it hadn't even been locked. "Relax Hummel, I'm not a serial killer."

"That's exactly what one would say." Kurt muttered.

Somewhere inside the house he heard Blaine chuckle and say, "Nothing gets past you."

Kurt paused on the porch with the door held open in front of him. He glanced back at his car, momentarily considering running away like a coward. Blaine was already at the other end of the house so he wouldn't notice until Kurt was already gone.

Kurt bit his lip.

A conversation in the choir room earlier about him talking to Blaine made him the slightest bit doubtful. For a moment he wondered what his friends would think about him actually being friends with someone like Blaine, someone who came to school hung over and got in fights. After all they had freaked out about them just sitting together in class. Then he remembered the past month. When he thought of that Blaine was just Blaine again.

Even with that, he was still nervous about being in Blaine's house. Walking into any other acquaintances' house wouldn't mean a thing, but it seemed very private when it came to Blaine Anderson, like an honor that he alone had been presented with. It was a strange feeling.

_This is silly._ Kurt thought.

It really was silly. Plus he felt guilty for letting the air out while he stood there having a moral crisis.

He stepped inside and shut the door. Past the front door a short narrow hallway cut off to the right into the living room. It was surprising how homely the place was. Kurt didn't know what he'd been expecting. He felt even sillier when the Earth's core didn't explode and volcanoes didn't erupt. Once the relief passed, he felt ashamed. How could he have considered running off? Especially when Blaine had just been injured in a fight defending him.

Kurt followed his ears down the hall, through a small living room, and into an even smaller kitchen. Blaine was standing at a sink, running a washcloth under steaming water. Blaine wrung it out then gently pressed it to the side of his neck, hissing in pain when it made contact with his skin. He turned around and Kurt's eyes were drawn to a steady drip of blood streaming from his nose.

"You're bleeding." Kurt said weakly. After staring like an idiot for a full ten seconds he regained the ability to think and rushed over, taking the rag from Blaine. "Head back." He ordered.

Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose and tipped his head back. Kurt rinsed the bloodied rag until it was no longer stained red, but instead a pinkish color. After years of dealing with the aftermath of bullies and a few months of cleaning up some of Finn's injuries he was no longer squeamish when it came to blood and other bodily fluids. He figured if his big Broadway dreams didn't work out there was always the medical field. Carole would be pleased to hear that.

He brought the cloth back up to Blaine's face and gently dabbed at the dried blood on his chin. Blaine shifted the hand that was still stifling the blood flow out of the way so that Kurt could get his upper lip. Kurt continued until he was satisfied that he'd gotten everything. At that point the nosebleed had slowed to a halt. Kurt rinsed off the rag then handed it back to Blaine to wipe his nose off himself.

Blaine turned his head and Kurt noticed the oddly shaped gash on his neck. Without thinking he brushed his fingers against it. Blaine flinched making him yank his hand back.

"How did that happen?" He wondered aloud.

"The jackass was wearing a ring. It got me when he grabbed me."

Kurt's face fell. "I'm sorry."

Blaine stared at him looking perplexed. "You didn't do anything."

"Levi wouldn't have come after you if you didn't go after Karofsky first," Kurt pointed out. "And-"

"And _I_ wouldn't have touched Karofsky if he had an ounce of self control." Blaine countered.

Blaine seemed to have this ridiculous notion that he had taken on the role of Kurt's body guard. The way he spoke of bullies and vengeance one might think he was a superhero. It was almost sweet, but then Kurt didn't want to see himself as the damsel in distress.

"You can't get even with every wrongdoer in the world."

"I can try. Haven't you noticed the decrease in McKinley's crime rate?" Blaine let out a weak attempt at a chuckle that turned into a fit of coughs.

"I suppose you think that has something to do with you."

Blaine grinned and crossed his arms. "Well I am like a modern day Robin Hood."

A peal of laughter burst from Kurt's mouth. "You heard Finn say that didn't you?"

Blaine looked up in thought. "Tina, actually. It was cute."

Blaine threw the bloodied rag in the sink, then walked into the living room. Kurt followed until Blaine plopped down on the sofa, then he hesitated.

Blaine noticed and said, "Don't stop talking now, I was having fun."

Kurt awkwardly sat down on the other end of the couch.

"So you're a sophomore and you live all by yourself?"

"I do have a roommate."

Kurt frowned in confusion.

Blaine lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. "Cooper!" He called.

A beautiful golden retriever appeared at the top of the stairs and bounded down. The dog trotted over to Blaine and nuzzled her head into his hand affectionately. Kurt scooted closer to them and held out a hand for the dog to sniff. Cooper immediately licked it, wagging her tail contently. Kurt took it as a good sign and ran his other hand along her back.

"She's gorgeous."

Blaine smiled. "Thank you. She's not actually mine, not completely. Her owner's school doesn't allow pets so she's here for the school year."

Kurt continued petting Cooper, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his stomach that completely had to do with the boy next to him.

"Come on, ask questions." Blaine said after a few minutes of quiet. "I know you're dying to."

Kurt looked up at him. The question he was truly dying to ask probably wasn't the most appropriate one so he went with, "Why did you walk all the way to school today? I know you said you needed to clear your head, but seven miles? That's a lot of thinking."

The expression on Blaine's face in response to that particular question was genuine bafflement, like he'd been expecting something more complicated. "To be honest my bike hasn't been working right for weeks now. Then the other day the engine gave out."

"I could take you." Kurt said without a second thought.

"What?"

"To school. I could give you a ride and then when I drop you off I could take a look at your bike, see if I can't fix it."

At the offer Blaine looked taken aback, as well as very skeptical. So it was surprising when he accepted the offer with a simple, "Okay."

Unsure what else to say, Kurt repeated, "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt pulled his car into Blaine's driveway at almost exactly seven o'clock. However, since they hadn't exchanged numbers he couldn't shoot him a text to let him know he was there. So Kurt figured he'd give him a little more time before he got out and knocked.

When Kurt offered last night he had expected him to decline, maybe even laugh - not that he was going to take it back now, he was actually quite pleased at the arrangement. It didn't sit well with him that someone Blaine's age had to make that commute alone. Then there was a part of him hoping the motorbike wouldn't be fixed in a day, that way he'd have an excuse to spend time with Blaine outside of school. It wasn't solely because he harbored an attraction for the boy; he genuinely enjoyed his company when he wasn't being a jerk.

It took ten minutes of waiting for Kurt to grow impatient. His hand was hovering over the horn when the front door burst open. An unfamiliar boy came out of the house and slammed the door behind him. The guy looked disheveled, with messy hair and no shirt on. A window on the second landing slid open and a shirt was thrown from it, then the window was slammed shut. The stranger stomped past the navigator on his way to what was presumably his own car, got in, and wasted no time pulling away from the curb.

"Like you were even good in bed!" He yelled out the window as he whipped away.

Kurt turned and noticed Blaine rolling his eyes in the direction of the car from his front porch. Blaine just slung his bag over his shoulder, closed the front door, and made his way over to Kurt's car looking unperturbed.

"What was that about?" Kurt asked, once Blaine was in the passenger seat.

Blaine barely looked at him and waved off his concern, "Don't worry about it."

Kurt didn't say anything after that, but he couldn't just not worry about it. The events of this morning had shaken him a little. It might just have been that he'd already witnessed Blaine beat the crap out of someone, getting himself injured in the process, and Kurt still hadn't completely recovered from it, but he really didn't want to see any more violence. Fighting, be it verbal or physical, made him uncomfortable. Even ten minutes after the fact his complexion was still ashen and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Blaine was staring at him.

"Are you scared of me Kurt?"

"No." He replied without thinking. Yes, he certainly found Blaine intimidating, and yes, the thought of what Blaine could do to him (namely his heart) did sometimes scare him, but the boy himself was just another wayward teenager. "Is this the part where you say, 'you should be'?"

"No," Blaine's lips twitched. "But you should be."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

. . .

For the rest of the day nothing was different between them. They didn't go out of their way to speak to the other in the hall, and they talked only a little in the classes they shared. The only difference was that at the end of the day they met up in the parking lot and instead of turning right to go home, Kurt turned left.

After they arrived at Blaine's place they went straight to the garage. Rather having a button or using a keypad, Blaine reached for the metal handle on the garage door and manually pulled it up. Kurt was yet again stunned by the lack of security measures on the house.

Inside the garage was plain and surprisingly tidy. On the right side there was a shelf stacked with boxes, and a punching bag was hung up in the back left corner; in the very center Blaine's old Harley was laying on its side on top of an old blanket, and tools were sprawled out all around it. Clearly Blaine had already attempted to fix it himself and Kurt could only hope that he hadn't done any irreparable damage to it.

"May I?" Kurt asked looking at the thing.

Blaine made a by all means gesture with his hand, and Kurt moved up close for a better look. He knelt down next to it and meddled with a few pieces. When he reached for the engine a big chunk of parts promptly dropped into Kurt's hands. He sucked his teeth in mild irritation at Blaine's incompetency and carefully laid the part on top of the blanket.

"What's the damage, doc?" Blaine asked from where he was leaning with his hands on his knees.

Kurt started at how close he was. He stood up and walked around to the other side where Blaine was far away, somewhere he could actually keep some semblance of professionalism, before he answered. "Well, it looks like you blew a fuse. That would have been easy to fix had you not taken apart the engine," He glanced back down. "Incorrectly I might add."

Blaine shrugged. "I've never claimed to be a mechanic. So how long do you think it will take to fix it?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I won't be able to tell how bad the damage is until I can take it apart." Kurt scratched his neck. "You say the engine just quit?"

Blaine looked sheepish. "I may have crashed it before that."

Kurt quickly took a mental inventory of all the things his dad made him keep in his trunk for emergencies. Unfortunately for Blaine, he came up a few items short. "I'll have to come back tomorrow when I have the right tools to fix it."

Blaine sighed and stretched, momentarily clasping his hands behind his head. Kurt's eyes were automatically drawn to his arms where the t-shirt was stretched tight over muscle. "I guess that means I'll be needing another ride to school."

"Huh?" Kurt had to rip his eyes away before his brain could function properly. A ride... "Right. Of course."

"Come on." Blaine tipped his head toward the driveway. "I'll walk you to your swaggin' wagon."

On the way to his navigator, Kurt noticed the thing that Blaine had thrown out the window that morning and curiously picked it up. It was a dress shirt by Michael Kors, not cheap by any means. He handled the fabric delicately as he held it out to Blaine. "Hey, your friend forgot this earlier."

Blaine huffed in annoyance but took it. "Never should have let him stay over." He grumbled.

Kurt was surprised by the way Blaine was talking about the guy like a stranger, having assumed him to be a friend or at least an acquaintance, and then even more so when Blaine tossed it in the garbage as though it was some cheap Walmart brand T-shirt and not the hundred dollar button up that it was.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to return that?"

"Can't. Don't remember his name, don't care to find out."

Kurt frowned. "Wait. You let a total stranger stay the night at your house. Why?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. Rather than give any explanation, Blaine ushered Kurt into his car and then slammed the door behind him. The message was clear - they were done talking about the subject. For the time being Kurt dropped it. Though honestly, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't left confused and curious.

. . .

"So you're still coming over tonight, right?" A voice said.

Kurt flinched. Thankfully, it was Blaine who walked up behind him and not Karofsky. He instantly felt really stupid. Honestly, Blaine sounded nothing like the Neanderthal.

"Of course." He replied. "We had plans didn't we?"

"Maybe you got invited to some wild party, or whatever you kids do nowadays. If you did, you know I'd understand." He gave Kurt a once over and added, "Maybe some beer would loosen that stick from your ass."

Kurt chose to ignore the last comment. "Where do you even party around _Lima, Ohio_?"

"You say it like Lima's located in a cornfield in Kansas – which are great for parties by the way." Blaine laughed.

"Because in case you haven't noticed Lima's not exactly the new Vegas."

Blaine bumped his shoulder playfully. "Hey, I use to live somewhere even more boring, if that's even possible. So yeah, Lima's is still a step up. At least for me."

"God bless you." Kurt pretended to praise him. "Where did you live anyways?"

"Around." He answered vaguely.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Okay, Blaine Anderson from _Around_, what do you do for fun here?"

He shrugged. "Mostly hang around my place, sometimes the movies. There's Scandals, but that place is god-awful and sketchy."

Kurt grinned at the image of Blaine in a place like Scandals. He imagined him dancing the Macarena with the drag queens and sipping Shirley temples, but it was a ridiculous thought. Blaine at a gay bar in general was just such a humorous concept.

Then Kurt realized: _gay _bar. The thought made him stop dead in his tracks.

Blaine, who had narrowly avoided walking straight into him when he stopped, stumbled over his feet again as Kurt rounded on him.

_"Like you're even good in bed!"_ The stranger's words replayed in Kurt's head.

Then he remembered a giant red and purple bruise on the guy's throat. Kurt had certainly stared at Blaine's mouth enough to realize it was roughly the same shape and size to have -

"Holy shit!" He blurted aloud, stopping dead in his tracks. He immediately clamped his mouth shut and had the humility to look ashamed. Then again, this new revelation did warrant some swearing. "You're-"

Blaine's eyes widened.

The next thing Kurt knew he was being pushed up against the wall with a hand over his mouth. He looked at Blaine fearfully and noted that he was giving him much of the same look.

"SHHH!" Blaine quickly scanned the lot; it was nearly empty except for the few stragglers who were giving them odd looks. Once Blaine realized he was still pressing Kurt up against the wall, and very closely at that, he retracted his hand and smoothed Kurt's shirt collar out.

Kurt stood there gaping at him. Blaine sensed an outburst and headed toward the navigator. It took a minute for the shock to wear off, but once it did, Kurt jogged after him.

Once they had gotten into the car, Kurt asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Oh, well I'm sorry. Your position of McKinley's gay registrar slipped my mind." Blaine retorted.

In response, Kurt huffed indignantly and otherwise refused to acknowledge him.

The rest of the car ride was devoid of conversation. When they arrived at Blaine's house Kurt continued to stare straight ahead until he heard the car door open, then he looked down at his lap.

He wished Blaine would at least talk to him. He obviously needed to talk to someone judging by the way he was acting about the whole thing. Besides, Kurt was going far out of his way to help the boy with a lot. It didn't matter that he had a huge crush on Blaine and would do anything for him; there was still a degree to which he would take so much crap before exploding.

As though hearing Kurt's thoughts, the guiltiest look flashed across Blaine's face.

The only part of Blaine out of the car was his torso so Kurt missed it. Kurt looked over in confusion when Blaine sat back down in the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean to be an ass about it." Blaine said earnestly.

Kurt sighed. Leave it to Blaine to be a jerk and then pull a puppy face and make Kurt feel like the bad guy.

"I guess I shouldn't have yelled it for everyone to hear." Kurt mumbled more to himself. So many thoughts rushed through his head so quickly; it felt like everything was spinning. He turned to Blaine wide-eyed. "Just my God Blaine, you were the last person I ever would have taken for a closet case."

Blaine averted his eyes and fidgeted awkwardly. His head tilted this way and that while his jaw clenched, a tic Kurt had associated with Blaine about to reluctantly admit to something.

"I'm not a closet case." He gritted out.

Kurt wasn't even sure if he was supposed to hear that. Still, his brows shot up. "Blaine, there's nothing wrong with not wanting to come out."

Blaine finally looked him in the eye. "I'm already out. I came out a very long time ago." He said this very clearly.

"Then why-"

"Maybe I just don't think my sexuality at a homophobic school that I'll probably get kicked out of by the end of the year isn't relevant. For some of us, being gay isn't our entire personality."

Kurt gave him a nasty look and opened his mouth to tell him to leave. However, Blaine beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm just stressed out, and I keep saying stupid things. I really don't want to lash out at you, you're the only real friend I have here, and I'm just-"

"Look Blaine, I'm not going to go spilling your secrets or ditch you. But you have got to start treating me like we're equals and stop acting like I'm here to betray you. If you're not out, I get it, you don't have to lie."

Blaine rubbed at his temples. "Why do you think I ultimately got kicked out, Kurt. I came out when I was in middle school, and things only got worse from there. I promise I've already gone through all of that. I'm out and proud or whatever, just not forthcoming. So if McKinley's gonna be ground zero for the war on gays, I'd just rather go with the don't ask, don't tell approach. Okay?"

Kurt nodded and left it at that, but internally his thoughts were all over the place. If Blaine wanted to pretend like he wasn't so far in that he could see Narnia, he wasn't going to burst that fantasy.

. . .

"I can't believe you tried to fix it yourself." Kurt found himself saying for the second time that day. It was only seven, but he had gotten there an hour before to - well, he didn't have a legitimate excuse. After the previous day's admission it was simply impossible to stay asleep. And he was doing Blaine a favor, who was he to complain?

"I figured it would be the same as fixing a car. I won't make that mistake twice."

While Kurt was getting his hands greasy, Blaine stood over in the corner by his punching bag. Every now and again Kurt would hear faint thudding, indicating that Blaine was again punching (if you could even call it that) at it lazily.

Kurt paused his tinkering and gave Blaine a look of pure disbelief. "_You _fixed a car? Right."

"If you must know it was with my dad a few summers ago. One of his many 'bonding' attempts." Blaine punctuated this by taking a real swing at the bag. "Also known as ways to make your kid like girls time." He threw his arms around the bag and held it still as he thrusted his knee into it. After the display of aggression, the anguish on Blaine's face shifted into a more neutral expression.

"So you're gay," Kurt took the opportunity to turn the conversation onto Blaine's sexuality, a subject he was suddenly very interested in. "Then why are you always making a big show of hitting on girls?"

He knew it was a very touchy subject and that Blaine didn't want to talk about it, but Kurt couldn't help but see someone like Blaine who was so far in the closet as pitiful. It wasn't necessarily pathetic, it was just sad to see. He wanted him to at least have a safe place to talk about it.

Blaine frowned. His brows furrowed as though he was actually considering the question. In the end, all he said was, "It's almost a quarter 'til. We're gonna be late."

Kurt was disappointed in the answer, yet he couldn't blame Blaine for avoiding the question. So instead of pressing the other boy, he nodded and started to put tools away. Together, they grabbed their things and went to the navigator.

It was Blaine who finally broke the silence. "You know sometimes it's just easier that way."

He didn't expand on the subject. He didn't need to; Kurt understood what he was talking about. Although, one thing that did make him curious was the other boy's uncomfortable behavior. It hadn't been Kurt's questions that had caused it as Blaine's behavior had been odd ever since his sexuality had come out.

However, before Kurt could think too much on it he was distracted by Blaine pulling the lever to recline the seat back and putting his feet up on the dashboard. Kurt rolled his eyes. Without looking away from the road, he reached over and pressed the button to sit the seat back up; the chair shot up and Blaine was left doubled over in an uncomfortable position. "Feet off my dashboard."

Blaine glared up at him, but acquiesced. Once his feet were removed Kurt released the lever and allowed him to readjust his seat.

Once Blaine was done screwing around, without any prompting, Blaine continued the conversation, "Besides, if I sleep with someone it's not going to be anyone I go to school with anyway. And in any case, you're the only other out gay kid."

"What you're too good to try to convert straight guys?" Kurt joked.

"I don't prey on straight guys." Blaine cocked his head mockingly and said, "I distinctly recall a stereotype about that."

"Blaine," Kurt looked at him seriously. "You're a walking stereotype."

"Ouch. That hurts."

Now that Blaine seemed a little more relaxed, Kurt wasn't as scared to ask more questions.

"So, you're, uh," Kurt struggled to find the words. It wasn't as intimidating, but it didn't make it any less awkward.

"Of a homosexual inclination?" Blaine supplied.

Kurt gaped at him.

Blaine continued, "Uranian? Queer? A debonair homosexual?"

"Debonair isn't exactly the word I would use." Kurt finally said.

This actually pulled a chuckle out of Blaine.

Kurt backtracked, "So that guy you were fighting with-"

"Was nothing. Picked him up at Scandals and I hope to never see him again."

The conversation ended there. To prevent any more conversation, Blaine reached forward and turned the radio up. For whatever reason it was tuned to the alternative rock station (Although, Kurt has his suspicions). Blaine closed his eyes and fingered the opening riff. His feet tapped out the beat, and while sound was high enough drown him out, Kurt could see his mouth moving along to the lyrics. The music seemed to be carrying him away with it. So when Kurt muted it, Blaine looked very confused.

"I hate that song." He muttered, turning it off.

Blaine abruptly sat up straight, looking as though his mellow had never been more harshed. "It's a good song."

"It's another overly sexualized song, with no meaning other than..."

"Copulating?" Blaine offered.

Kurt gave him a judgmental look until he realized that Blaine was making fun of him.

"Anyway, I think it's a little deeper than that. The lyricist is so infatuated, and addicted to this person. He wants them so much that, he'll take them any way he can." Blaine leaned in conspiratorially. "And who are you to deny such a sexy beat?"

"I still don't like it." Kurt retorted.

"You were tapping your foot."

"No I wasn't."

"You so were."

"I'm a musician; I can't help but keep a beat."

"You don't play any instruments." Blaine pointed out.

"My voice is an instrument."

Blaine looked out the window and mumbled, "Just admit you like the song."

"No."

Kurt saw Blaine's reflection in the window smile, and he couldn't help but smile too.

Blaine may have been an annoying, closeted, James Dean wannabe, and Kurt a sassy, overly dramatic, out there freak, yet they somehow made their wacky friendship work. Who honestly knew what the future would hold, or how it would inevitably go out of its way to screw Kurt, but there seemed to be some hope there.

Regardless of everything, in that moment, Kurt felt that they were going to be alright.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next week Kurt drove to Blaine's house every morning and took him to school, and then at the end of the day drove back to Blaine's house and worked on the motorcycle.

During some of the mornings he noticed a lot of traffic at the Anderson estate. Sometimes he would pull up and a guy would be taking his walk of shame, other times Blaine was the only one to leave. Kurt very much preferred the second type of morning.

Every time Kurt saw Blaine with or bearing the marks of another man something unpleasant twisted in his stomach. It was too strange thinking of Blaine as a sexual being, when before he had just been the punk, the protector, a friend, and yes, definitely a flirt, but never a playboy. Of course it fit in with the whole 'bad boy' persona, so that shouldn't have been a surprise. While these encounters had initially left Kurt shocked and sometimes fuming, over time he became increasingly desensitized to it all and eventually learned to pay them little mind.

As for the bike, it probably shouldn't have taken so long to fix, but Blaine was always such a distraction. If he wasn't talking or playing around then he was trying to get Kurt to explain what he was doing. Most of the time he was ignored or Kurt would simply grab the remote to the stereo in his car and amp it up (it only took a day to learn that Blaine was easy to placate and as long as he turned on the oldies station, the boy would go into own little world). On occasion Kurt would be in a really good mood and if he wasn't too in the zone he would indulge Blaine and have him help do things as he tried to explain it. Blaine always got bored after a while and then they'd talk about anything else. A popular topic was music and people at school, but sometimes they would traverse deeper.

One particular afternoon Kurt actually got Blaine to open up a little more and he finally learned a bit about why Blaine was there.

"That must have been awful." Kurt had said after Blaine finished talking about moving out of his parents' home.

Blaine laughed. "Are you kidding me? I was singing Billy Joel at the top of my lungs while packing."

Kurt blinked, astonished at his easy attitude on the subject. He couldn't imagine what he would do if his dad ever asked him to leave.

Kurt glanced up and saw Blaine propped up against the wall watching him. He pretended to tinker with parts and cleared his throat.

"Could you hand me that wrench?"

Blaine shrugged and walked over to the toolbox, whistling the tune to Movin' Out. "This one?" He asked, holding it up over his shoulder.

"Mmhm." Kurt hummed absentmindedly. "Hand it over."

He held out his hand expectantly, but Blaine lifted the tool out of his reach.

"How about please?" Blaine tutted.

"How about give it?" Kurt retorted.

Blaine handed it over. "You know just how to make a boy melt, don't you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and steered the conversation back to the previous topic. "I still don't understand why they would react like that. If you don't mind my asking of course."

Blaine whistled low. "Why all the tough questions, Katie?" He attempted to joke.

When Kurt continued to look at him, still awaiting an answer, Blaine just sighed. "I dunno, I guess it might have to do more with my mother not being able to compromise her image and her career with my particular inclinations. You know how these things work."

"I suppose." Kurt couldn't help but to reflect on that. In his younger year he had been well aware that his image didn't particularly mesh well with the environment of his father's garage, but it had never been an overt problem. If anything he'd received more odd looks when he'd showed up for work dawning the Mellencamp gear sophomore year. Then again, Blaine's mother didn't likely fix cars for a living, so there was probably a whole different conduct code where she was concerned. Kurt idly wondered exactly where she did work. Blaine never talked about it specifically, but judging by the way he spoke of her, she sounded like some sort of business lady socialite type. He nearly asked, but instead chose to hold his tongue not wanting to further sour Blaine's mood.

Kurt gave Blaine an entirely haughty look. "And I still can't believe you never told me you were gay." He pretended to sniff.

To his credit, Blaine flashed him a wry smile, suggesting they were out of hot water. "I honestly thought you knew." He shrugged. "So now that the cat's out of the bag - or, I guess, closet - does that change anything?"

And there was the million dollar question. _Did_ it change anything? Just because it turned out Blaine played for his team didn't mean they were suddenly in the same league, or even playing the same game apparently. It didn't mean that Kurt now had any more of a chance than he did before. Of course nothing was fixed, but then maybe some things were. It seemed Kurt wasn't the only one asking the loaded questions.

Blaine looked away, probably anticipating an answer he wouldn't like.

"No." Liar.

"Then stop bringing it up."

Kurt had the humility to look ashamed, but the look on Blaine's face said that he wasn't really bothered.

So he let it go for the time being.

A few beats later Kurt cleared his throat and said, "I actually need the one with the yellow handle."

Blaine made an 'as you wish' gesture then bent over the toolbox and sifted through it noisily. Naturally Kurt couldn't help but stare at the sight before him.

"I don't see a yellow one." Blaine said, looking at Kurt over his shoulder. Noticing Kurt's leering, Blaine's expression went from quizzical to amused.

Blushing profusely, Kurt averted his eyes and nodded. He could practically feel Blaine smirking. He ran a hand over his face in embarrassment, forgetting about the grease all over him. Gunk smeared across his face and into his mouth. This made Blaine laughed loudly as Kurt's attempts to wipe his mouth off on his shirt sleeve became more frantic.

A balled up wet rag flew through the air and smacked Kurt in the face. Kurt used it to clean up then looked up and saw Blaine blinking innocently back. Blaine's 'innocent' face quickly morphed into a blur of eyebrows and fear when Kurt jumped up and went after him.

. . .

Later that evening Kurt walked into the house sopping wet and trembling, but smiling triumphantly. When Burt caught sight of the mess that was his son, he allowed him to continue upstairs to the shower and mercifully didn't mention it right then.

In the shower Kurt pulled chunks of mud from his hair with a sour face. Somehow he and Blaine's 'game' of chase had morphed into a mud fight when Blaine made good on his threat and splashed him with the water hose. Blaine had been so shocked when, rather than storming off, Kurt picked up a handful of mud and flung it straight into his gelled down locks.

Looking back, it probably wasn't their proudest moment, especially seeing as it was November in Ohio. Being fifty degrees hosing off outside hadn't been an option, so the other solution was for Blaine to spray Kurt down while he stood in the aluminum tub that was used for Blaine's ice baths. Being cold and wet in the garage hadn't been much better outside, so a cold was inevitable at that point, but Blaine's filth covered body happily waving goodbye as Kurt drove off was worth the pneumonia.

After a second shower – this time a steaming hot shower – Kurt threw on pajamas and draped a soft comforter around his shoulders, then went into the kitchen to forage for soup.

On the counter Kurt found a half-eaten piece of deer jerky in a wrapper and grabbed it. He was rummaging around the pantry when a pair of heavy boots appeared on the other side of the cabinet door. He slowly moved the door and stood facing a less than amused father.

"Kurt." Burt said in his best authoritative voice.

"Hi." Kurt said around the food in his mouth.

Burt yanked jerky from his mouth and took it for himself. "Care to explain all the water?"

Kurt looked guiltily over at the damp carpet. "Um, a friendly argument got out of hand."

Burt gave him a look the said he didn't believe a word. "Why were you even out that late? You've been leaving for school early and staying late for a while now."

It wasn't hard to tell what Burt was implying with this sudden onset of questions.

"I'm only gonna ask you this once." He said very seriously. "Is there anything I need to know about?"

Obviously, Kurt didn't want his dad thinking he was getting full body swirlies at school, but he was also reluctant to admit to his newfound extracurriculars even though he had no reason to hide them. There was something about being with Blaine that just felt personal.

Burt crossed his arms. "You told me those boys were leaving you alone. Is that why you're always wearing a different clothes when you come home?"

Kurt's eyes widened. "No, dad! I swear, that's not it."

"Then what is it, kid? For weeks now you've been acting different and sneaking around a lot more. I thought we were done with that."

The thing about this that made Kurt feel really crappy was the fact that his dad sounded genuinely disappointed in him. He could barely look him in the eye.

"No one's been messing with me." All of this third degree and bully talk was raising his anxiety levels. To avoid answering, he started fixing himself a bowl of cereal.

The Hummel patriarch wasn't so easily deterred. "Kurt."

"I've just been hanging out with a new friend before and after school." Kurt admitted.

Burt looked both relieved and for some reason a little flustered. "Oh. It's that. Look, kid, I don't mind you dating or whatever, you don't gotta feel like you can't take ever bring him around. I'd actually prefer it if I could meet whoever it is."

Oh. That's why. "Dad, no. Me and Blaine aren't-"

"Blaine?" Burt's eyes narrowed in recognition. "He's the one that messed up that Karofsky kid. I know what I said before about being happy those bullies are getting what's coming and all, but if this kid's bad news I don't know how comfortable I am with you hanging around him."

It was Kurt's turn to cross his arms. "You don't have a problem with Finn hanging out with Puck." He scoffed.

"Finn isn't my kid. That's Carole's call. And Puck's a punk but he ain't dangerous. I'm not trying to dictate who you hang out with, so I'll compromise. I'd like to meet this kid." Before Kurt could open his mouth to argue, he quickly added, "You don't have to bring him for dinner or anything like that. I just want to meet him."

It was by no means an unreasonable request under normal circumstances, but Kurt remained unsure. "I don't know if that's a good idea. Our relationship's kind of fragile." At Burt's expression, he hastily added, "It's not what you're thinking either. I just don't know how well he reacts to parents."

Burt actually laughed at this. "Kurt, I'd be more freaked out by a kid that does react well to parents."

"I meant that, dad. I don't know how well he gets on with adults. He's decent enough to most of the teachers, but his own family..." Kurt trailed off, lost for the appropriate words to phrase what he was trying to say. All he could come up with was, "His parents aren't really there."

"His folks are gone." Burt said simply. "That's rough. He's not a foster kid, though?"

"No. He actually lives by himself. I don't want to directly ask, but from what I've gathered they're still living somewhere in Ohio. I think they might have left him sometime this past year."

Burt sighed. He looked tired and worn all of the sudden. They hadn't really had many conversations similar to this one – if any at all – but it was clear Burt was thinking back on the whole Finn debacle. "Just be careful Kurt. I don't want to see you hurt."

Kurt shook his head. "I won't. I told you it's not like that."

He gave Burt a pleading look that the old man seemed to accept, even if a little reluctantly. Kurt inwardly cheered. At least with all of this uncomfortable mess over with they could get back to normal.

"Whatever you say. What are you two doing then anyway?" Burt asked.

Kurt relaxed, having officially moved out of the hot seat. "Oh, nothing interesting. Last week Blaine mentioned his bike being broken so I offered to look at it, and taking a look turned into completely repairing his engine."

"You know you can bring it up here." Kurt could see that the offer wasn't some pretense to get Blaine to come around. His dad was only trying to help out. It warmed his heart, and suddenly he was much more appreciative of the fact that his dad owned a car shop. If anything, it was convenient.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I can handle it."

He knew those words made his father proud of him and it showed on Burt's face.

It wasn't that Burt didn't accept him – he'd proved time and time again that he did – but it was nice finding common ground, even in something as simple as fixing cars. At least that didn't involve so much controversy.

"That 'a boy." Burt ruffled his hair, something only he would get away with. Having filled his parental embarrassment quota for the day, Burt nodded to himself. "Alright then. I'm off to the store to pick up some things. Just don't do anything stupid while I'm out."

"Same goes for you." Kurt retorted. "No junk food!"

Burt rolled his eyes and mumbled something about, "Do as I say, not as I do."

Kurt glanced down at his cereal. Cornflakes were healthy... Right?

"Goodnight, kid." Burt called.

"'Night!"

Kurt lifted another mouthful of cereal up to his mouth and - oh, it was Frosted Flakes after all.

**. . .**

The next morning at breakfast Burt told him, "For the record, so long as you're keeping your nose clean, I don't mind you being friends with Blaine or whoever." And that was all he said on the subject.

... Or at least until he was walking out the door.

He added, "Just don't come crying to me when that engine bursts into flames."

Kurt pursed his lips. He knew what he was doing.

**. . .**

"If you don't know what you're doing you don't have to -"

"I do." Kurt snapped. His tone left no room for argument.

Blaine sensed the tension and completely changed the subject. "Okay. Come on, Hummel. Break time."

"I'm almost done." Kurt insisted.

"No, you're not."

In the end, Blaine had to physically remove Kurt from the toolkit and force him into the car.

"Where are we going?"

All Blaine would say was, "Out."

Kurt was directed out of the other side of the neighborhood and onto the highway by Blaine. They drove an unfamiliar route for fifteen minutes until Blaine directed him into a parking lot.

Once they found a parking space, Kurt looked at the other boy in disbelief. "The mall, Blaine?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. That is, until he noticed Kurt's confusion. "What was I supposed to take you somewhere more scandalous? It's way too early for that, dummy."

With that he hopped out of the car. Without even waiting for Kurt to the same, Blaine ran right over to the entrance.

. . .

Their little excursion to the mall actually ended up being nice. In contrast to Kurt's initial beliefs, they were able to have fun together simply doing normal teenager things. Sexuality didn't have to be brought up, neither worried about bullies or people judging them, it was a normal day for anyone else.

They went to the food court and shared a pizza while talking about whatever they felt. It wasn't oddly reminiscent of being in school and chatting so that they didn't have to do their schoolwork.

After they ate, they walked around. They found a few clothing stores worth looking at, a quaint candy shop, a store filled with random crap that they played with. The best part about all of it was that nobody cared. They didn't receive weird looks or get pushed. Nothing. It made Kurt wonder if it wasn't all a high school mentality that people at school so concerned with them. It was all a really freeing experience.

However, good things weren't meant to last and the time to go home came all too quickly for Kurt's liking. It was a truly sad thing when it was time to leave, he lamented.

. . .

On the way back to Blaine's house, the car was silent except for the radio playing quietly in the background. Unlike the other day when Blaine came out to Kurt, it was a friendly silence that really didn't need filling.

When they made it back to Blaine's house, Kurt pulled the car into his driveway like he did every day for the past week, except this time, they didn't both hop out and go straight to the garage. Only Blaine got out of the car. Similarly to the other day, Blaine paused before shutting the door. He leaned down and asked, "We're friends, right Kurt?"

Kurt was surprised that he called him by his name instead of Hummel like usual. He was so caught up on the thought that it took a moment to realize that it wasn't a rhetorical question. He noticed that Blaine was trying to appear nonchalant and like he was paying attention to him, but the way his eyes kept shifting gave him away.

"Of course we're friends. I like you."

Blaine appeared surprised to have received a real answer, but most of all he seemed pleased. "Good."

Blaine gave Kurt one of his gorgeous smile and then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a pleasant surprise when just as many of Kurt's friends abandoned him some the boys he had met at Dalton decided that they wanted to meet up for drinks.

Everyone in glee club had their sordid affairs start up yet again and all at once. Many of them were fighting tooth and nail for a solo at the upcoming sectionals competition, others were ready to kill each other on principle alone. Either way, the choir was gearing up for war and everyone was picking sides. This year Kurt didn't especially feel up to involving himself in this particular pissing contest, so as a result he was left out. It wasn't all that bothersome though. Tina and Mercedes would at least come rushing to him once it was safe to come out of the bomb shelters, so it was all really just a matter of waiting for it all to blow over.

That being said, it was still lonely. Fortunately however, the Warblers could always be counted on in his times of need. As of late, Blaine had been the one to fill that position, but now that his bike was working and not spewing parts apparently Blaine didn't need him. So much for Mr. "are we friends" Kurt lamented.

So here he was, sitting in the Lima Bean and sipping coffee with someone only a few paygrades above stranger, all the while spilling his dirty laundry.

"Glee is as dramatic as ever," He didn't bother forcing all the gory specifics onto Nick. "School is slow and sad. Lima's still lame. Nothing much to talk about."

"How about that one guy?" Nick asked.

"The Karofsky problem has actually resolved itself." Kurt admitted. In a way it sort of had. Not necessarily in the healthiest way possible, Blaine had assured that, but Karofsky hadn't so much as looked at him in weeks.

It was strange talking about his problems so easily and especially with someone he primarily contacted via texting. It probably shouldn't have felt so strange considering Nick was such a good listener and so kind. Besides, the Lima Bean was so crowded it wasn't as though anyone would overhear them.

"That's good." Nick said slowly.

"Yeah, it's definitely a nice change."

As their pleasantries came to an end, a small group of Nick's fellow Warblers walked past the Lima Bean window. A head of pale blonde hair squashed its nose right up against the glass and waved enthusiastically. Kurt chuckled at Jeff's behavior and waved back.

It wasn't long before the group had cups of coffee and plates of pastries and made their way toward Nick and Kurt's spot in the corner. Naturally, Jeff joined them while they others took up a few nearby tables.

"Hi, Kurt." Trent greeted warmly.

Kurt smiled at him, then immediately went on the lookout for Jeff. He was expecting him to pop out of nowhere and probably jump on him, but neither occurred. Instead he found the blonde sitting calmly beside him and frowning at his phone.

"Nick," He called to his boyfriend.

Nick, who was in the middle of a conversation, didn't hear him, so Jeff continued trying to get his attention. When Nick finally noticed him, he motioned for him to wait.

"Nicholas!"

Apparently, throwing straws was all it took to get Nick's full attention. "_Oh my god, what?_"

Jeff shoved his phone in his face. "Look who's been texting me all day."

Nick, who had a phone shoved right up against his nose, swatted Jeff away and grabbed the phone away. He barely glanced at it before handing it back, ignoring Jeff's expectant expression.

"Cool, an unknown number. What did your mom tell you about talking to strangers?"

Jeff scrolled up through his messages. "No, look."

"Oh, him – _Him_?"

Jeff sat up and scooted toward the lonelier end of the bench and put his phone up to his ear. The rest of the guys went back to talking. Kurt attempted to do the same, but was distracted by loud bits and pieces of Jeff's conversation.

"What do you want? Are you coming home?" Jeff looked hopeful. "I – what? She better be – this is getting ridiculous. Please just come home, we miss you… Will you at least talk to them? I'll put you on speaker – no, you hang up and I'll – " Jeff yelled to Nick, "He hung up!"

"What's up with him?" He asked.

The others all simultaneously rolled their eyes. It wasn't mean though, if anything it was a fond gesture.

"Don't mind him." Cameron said. "It's probably just about his dog," Cameron continued to raise his voice so Jeff knew this was directed at him, "And he's just moping."

Jeff slid onto the seat between Nick and Kurt and interjected, "It's not just my baby. My _best friend forever _is still being ass and ignoring me."

Everyone followed this mysterious "best friend" 's lead and ignored Jeff.

"Shut up." Nicholas turned on Cameron. "Don't act like we haven't all caught you pining for your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend, dog, bit of a difference don't you think?" Cameron argued.

"Yeah, we've all seen your girlfriend." Trent scoffed, "Not by much."

"Better not get involved in all that." Nick said.

Kurt agreed. For dapper private school boys, they could get pretty nasty with each other.

"I hate Dalton's no pet policy." Jeff huffed. "She hurt her foot I guess, but she's fine now. I still think she should be living with me, I don't like where she's staying."

Kurt nodded sympathetically. He'd never had a dog, or any other pet for that matter, but Finn was almost like an animal and Blaine was rather puppy like as well. He'd certainly miss them if he couldn't see them every day. "What is she?" He asked in an attempt to cheer Jeff up.

It worked like a charm. Jeff perked up. "A retriever mix." He said, pulling his phone out. "Do you want to see a picture?"

Kurt grinned and nodded. Jeff showed him an adorable golden dog, her tongue hanging out and tail wagging. He took a closer look. She looked a lot like Cooper. But then, Kurt thought, so did most dogs to him.

He told Jeff as much, "She's gorgeous. My friend has a retriever and I swear they're twins."

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, they're a pretty popular breed. Hey, maybe they got theirs from the same person!"

Kurt really doubted someone like Blaine would have been anywhere near the same kind of dog breeder as someone like Jeff, but for his friend he smiled and nodded.

From there, the other Warbler boys swept Nick and Jeff up into a whirlwind of a conversation discussing their favorite show that Kurt had never even heard of.

Amid the yells of "I'm telling you she's going to betray them" "They are _so _gay for each other" and the more popular "No spoilers, damn it! I'm not there yet" Kurt allowed his thoughts to entertain him.

His mind drifted between random fantasies lazily, so when he saw a familiar figure he thought he was simply imagining things. He allowed himself to shamelessly stare at this "mirage Blaine" for a few minutes before getting bored and letting his thoughts move on. Except this time his imaginings did not disappear and he soon realized that Blaine was in fact standing at the counter.

That would explain why the Blaine he thought he was imagining was flirting with the barista and not Kurt.

Kurt immediately averted his eyes and attempted to slip into his friends' conversation. His cheeks were red from embarrassment, yet he still continued to discreetly look over. The fact that Blaine probably hadn't noticed him anyway assuaged some of the embarrassment, although it didn't make him feel any less stupid. Consequently, it was probably the worst moment of his life when Blaine shot him a discreet wink. As soon as it happened, Kurt found himself choking on scalding coffee.

A few of the guys gave him worried looks, while the rest looked mildly amused. After Trent asked if he was okay they went back to their conversation.

It appeared that Kurt wasn't the only one not paying attention to his friends. Blaine looked like he was trying his darndest to escape the girl talking to him. On another day Kurt may have gone over there and helped him out, but it was amusing to watch him struggle and he sort of deserved it anyway. A few times Blaine motioned for Kurt to go over, but each time he just got a shrug. Then he whipped out the pouty face. This time Kurt glanced over to his friends and returned that same pout.

Kurt was actually rather enjoying the silent banter, so it was a bit of a letdown when Blaine suddenly rushed out looking as though he'd seen a ghost (Of course, the poor barista may have been even more put out having been cut off mid-sentence).

Through the window Kurt could see him kick off his motorbike and zoom out of there. He was so busy watching him that he didn't notice the guys weren't talking anymore and that Nick, Jeff, and Trent were the only ones still at their table.

"Oh, Kurt." Nick whistled. "If I didn't know that look."

He tried to pretend like he was confused. "What are you talking about?"

His friends simultaneously leaned in all ready to gossip.

"Who was that guy?" Trent asked.

"Again, what are you talking about?"

"Oh just the dream boat you've been staring at." Jeff said offhandedly.

Nick pretended to fall into Trent's arms and swoon, "The one with the curly hair and leather jacket that rode off into the sunset on that piece of crap motorcycle."

"It is not a piece of crap!" Kurt snapped. It was. But after spending so much time attempting to fix it for all he cared that thing was a damn Lamborghini.

"So what's his name?" asked Nick.

"His name is Blaine."

"Blaine?" Jeff questioned.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed. "He's a total closet case and I'm totally in love with him."

Trent chuckled. "Oh, young, naive Kurt. Don't trust bad boys."

"Or closet cases." Nick warned.

"Or Blaine's for that matter." Jeff added.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Shall go lock myself in my tower then."

"That's an excellent idea."

Years later Kurt would seriously wonder if their advice wasn't some of the best ever given, particularly the one involving the tower.

. . .

The guys were able to keep Kurt's spirits high while they were at the Lima Bean talking and laughing, but once he was back home alone, it was more difficult to ignore the fact the Blaine seemed to be ignoring him. Being ignored really didn't feel all that wonderful. Obviously, Karofsky avoiding him at all costs was a Godsend, but when somebody who was supposed to be a close friend did it, it sucked.

Ever since Blaine had divulged his "non-secret/secret" he acted like proximity alone was going to make Kurt start blabbing. Sure they sat next to each other in classes, but talking was simply unavoidable. Around the rest of campus it was like they were strangers. It didn't sit well with Kurt having secret friends, like some closet-case running around with their boyfriend who lived in the wardrobe... not that Blaine _was _anything more than a friend. It wouldn't have bothered Kurt so much had they still been seeing one another after school, but ever since they finished the motorcycle over a week ago they had stopped hanging out at all.

Sometimes Kurt couldn't help but think that he'd been taken advantage of. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but the he thought about it, it made sense. Everyone at school knew his dad owned a car repair shop that Kurt helped run, so it wasn't difficult to jump to the conclusion that he knew a thing or two about repairs. Of course, he doubted Blaine would've gone through all that trouble for some free help and risk his secret being exposed. Be that as it may, there was the niggling doubt that maybe it was some joke that Blaine would pretend to be gay.

It was stupid to jump to those conclusions like that; he knew that, they were silly insecurities popping up. However, being aware of that wasn't enough to stop feelings from getting hurt. Maybe now he was beginning to understand what his dad meant about being careful.

Kurt knew that many of these insecurities stemmed from his growing crush on the boy. If he had been wearing rose-tinted goggles before, now he was donning full on hot pink ray bans. As for their little mall trip a few weeks before, he wasn't foolish enough to think of it as a real date, but that was as close to one he'd ever had. So naturally he was going to freak out and overanalyze everything.

When Kurt wasn't being ridiculously analytical it was clear what the real issue was, and that was Blaine. The fact was that Blaine was lying to himself when he claimed to be comfortable with his sexuality when he clearly wasn't. Out of all of his theories, that one best explained Blaine's behavior. Maybe he was afraid that hanging around a well-known gay would place him in the line of fire. Maybe before he rushed out of the Lima Bean he realized that he'd been too comfortable and hadn't put his walls up.

As for Kurt, he liked to fix things. This was probably due to the fact that he'd spent his whole life helping his dad fix things; it was something he was good at. Probably his biggest issue about the whole situation was that Blaine was broken and Kurt didn't know how to fix him.

Either way, Kurt had a life outside of Blaine Anderson and he wasn't going to spend his entire life agonizing over this. Sectionals would be coming up soon and that was really something he needed to focus on.

. . .

"Will you come to sectionals?" was what Kurt found himself blurting out the second he saw Blaine. "Please."

The original idea had been to bring up sectionals and ease Blaine into the subject before hinting at it, but apparently Kurt was too excited to even do that. Instead, he loudly blurted it out. Rather than being warmed up to the idea, Blaine was startled.

"Sectionals?"

"Yes, for glee club. It's coming up this weekend." Kurt explained.

Blaine seemed hesitant for some reason. "Who are you competing against?"

"Well, there's a bunch of groups that will be there since it's only Sectionals, but our only real competition is the Hipsters. They're just a group from a nursing home." Kurt laughed.

Blaine actually smiled a bit. Kurt, on the other hand, grinned broadly. Maybe this would work after all. Kurt supposed Blaine did owe him for fixing his bike and this really wasn't asking for much.

"Why even bother going? Doesn't sound like you guys have much competition."

Although Blaine sounded like he was joking, Kurt began to second guess himself. Maybe it was too far of a drive just to watch a silly show choir competition.

"Well," Kurt said tentatively. "Of course, we're not going all the way over there _just _to compete against some old people. I forgot about the Warblers. They'll actually probably be our real competition. Especially since they are the ones hosting it all the way in Westerville. That may be a bit of a drive." He rambled.

Suddenly Blaine's whole demeanor shifted. "Definitely not my thing." He said. And without any further explanation, he picked up his things and walked off.

"At least think about it!" Kurt called.

Blaine didn't acknowledge him though. He kept walking. As soon as he was out of sight, Kurt folded his arms and sighed as he sunk down on the bench. He let his chin fall into his arms on top of the table.

For the rest of the week Blaine avoided him. Whenever they were in class he was all of the sudden very interested in getting the homework and asking questions and of course they didn't see each other outside of school nowadays.

Besides Blaine wasn't the type to feel guilty over something like this, at least not from what Kurt knew of him. More than likely, Blaine was afraid of being asked why he wouldn't go. He'd seemed fine with it up until Westerville was mentioned. It didn't make sense why Blaine would be so concerned with Westerville, unless he was in some sort of trouble down there, but that was none of Kurt's business. All of the avoidance was unnecessary. Blaine didn't owe Kurt anything and he obviously really didn't want to go, so Kurt wasn't going to make him. No matter how much it put him out.

. . .

The day of sectionals arrived very quickly.

That morning Finn and Kurt carpooled to the school together. There, they helped load the bus and then parted ways to find a seat with their friends. Kurt and Mercedes pointedly found a seat the farthest away from Rachel on the chance that she removed her now more metaphorical duct tape and went on another rant. Finn wasn't so concerned with that and attempted to sit with her, but ended up across the aisle when she glared at him.

"We're screwed." Tina said, effectively setting the mood for the remainder of the two hour ride.

As predicted the ride over was dead silent. Everyone was angry at someone or else someone was angry at them. It was a blessing when they finally arrived and could stretch their legs and get away from each other.

The first thing Kurt did was run into Trent and wish the Warblers luck. After that all of the New Directions were suddenly angry at him as well. Then Mr. Shue herded them into the room where they would wait until they were to go on. There, Kurt sat on the couch with Sam and Quinn (the least hostile of everyone) while everyone argued and consequently were chewed out by Shue.

They still weren't able to set aside their differences until the curtains were being pulled back, but once they performed most of the fighting was done with. Then the first place was being announced as a tie, Wes shook hands with Shue, and everyone loaded back up onto the bus.

They may not have won, but at least they would be moving on.

On the way back it was again silent, but only because it was late and everyone was tired. Mercedes had her head resting on Kurt's shoulder as she dozed. He didn't bother trying to get her to move and let her sleep.

It was hard to let go of the ball of disappointment that Blaine hadn't been there. What did a win mean if there was no one to see it? Maybe he would attend regionals if Westerville was really the issue. Regionals was going to be in a town just outside of Lima.

Later that night at home Carole and Burt put together a little celebration dinner for Kurt and Finn. For the first time that day Kurt was able to get excited about the win and went back to be optimistic.

They would win, and they would make it to nationals this year. More importantly, Kurt was going to New York in May if it killed him.

* * *

**A/N: FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR****! Just Google itsarmyofelves (Army Of Elves) or whatever - it's that simple! Follow me and we can be friends forever. Seriously I need followers, and I'd love to meet you guys!**


	7. Chapter 7

The auditorium was silent.

It was four in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the glee club was in the choir room and the rest of the students had gone home for the day.

Blaine stepped out all the way into the large room and carefully closed the door behind him. He took a cautious look around before quickly making his way down the stairs and to the stage. As Blaine pulled himself up onto the stage the sheet music in his nervous hands slipped and fluttered to the floor. He quickly gathered them all up and scurried over to the piano.

"_Baby, It's Cold Outside_," Blaine read aloud as he got comfortable on the piano bench.

This would mark the first time he'd even touched a piano in years. Unfortunately, he only had a few weeks until the King's Island Christmas Spectacular. He had to get this right. A quick and dirty practice session in the school auditorium where anyone could see wasn't the ideal situation, but after having spent the last few days singing A Capella in his living room he needed the real deal. He needed instrumental accompaniment. He needed a stage. The one at the school just happened to be mostly unused and there for the taking, so it so happened to work out that way.

It had been a long time since he'd been underneath the sweltering heat of stage lighting. Blaine tugged nervously at his cardigan and swiped at the sweat beading down from underneath the fedora he was dawning. It had also been a long time since he'd worn such ridiculous clothes. The thought of anyone seeing him in this ridiculous attire was mortifying to say the least. They weren't even his clothes… they belonged to Kurt. Whilst getting dressed that morning, he had found them amongst his laundry and gotten this crazy idea that if he dressed like his old self, he might be more motivated and inspired to try singing again. Not that he had a choice considering he had a contract with King's Island Company and no understudy. Perhaps he had chosen to participate in the show this year for nostalgic reasons or simply to earn some spare cash, but as the date grew closer, he slowly lost that spark that got him thought the audition in the first place.

Blaine shoved those thoughts out of his head. He had work to do.

A quick glance at his watch told him that he had thirty minutes. He had to be quick. The glee club got out of practice at four-thirty today and there was no telling who would slip into the auditorium for an emotional ballad session (Blaine had been scouting out the territory the past week and thus far had borne witness to Rachel, Quinn, _and _Finn.)

"_Baby, it's cold –_ " His voice faltered on the last note, making him groan.

This would be a long half hour for him.

. . .

It took a few tries to get back into the right headspace, but Blaine managed it eventually. Of course, this particular song was a bit awkward seeing as it was a duet, so that was something he had to work around. However, within ten minutes Blaine was singing his little heart out. It was like being himself again. It felt powerful.

After he ran through the song all the way through without messing up, he started right back at the beginning and did it all over again. Time began to quickly slip by after that. Everything except the piano and his own voice faded, and Blaine was in his own world. He didn't even notice that he wasn't alone, that he hadn't been for a time…

Suddenly, a round of slow, deliberate claps resounded throughout the auditorium and snapped Blaine back into reality.

Frightened, Blaine twisted around and zeroed in on the intruder. Whoever it was stood in the direct line of bright light that illuminated the stage, making them impossible to make out. With his hand shielding his eyes, Blaine stood and looked to the stage's edge. As he did so, the person began slowly walking toward him.

Blaine's initial fear was that it was Mr. Shue, who was known to spy on people singing, or perhaps Finn Hudson, who was also no stranger creeping on people (That is, if Rick the Stick wasn't lying about catching Finn spying on Sam in the shower).

However, as the intruder made their way out of the light, it was revealed to be Kurt.

Blaine let out a breath of relief and plopped back down on the piano bench. He tried his best to ignore the smug little grin Kurt displayed as he began plucking at the keys once more.

Kurt stopped finally stopped his slow clap and pulled himself up onto the stage. He didn't take a seat on the bench, as Blaine had expected, but instead draped himself over the piano in typical Kurt fashion.

"I should have known you were a closeted stage junkie." He said wryly.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You know, not every gay man can sing, Hummel."

"I know," Kurt shrugged. He played with his hands for a moment, and when he looked back at the other boy, he looked thoughtful. Blaine expected him to say something profound, but all he got was, "You're just so theatrically _dramatic_. It makes sense."

"I am not." Blaine retorted childishly.

Kurt smirked, but let it go. "You never told me you could sing."

"I know how you people are and what you do to new kids. In this school, one's singing voice is a secret to be guarded at all costs."

"I wouldn't have pushed you to join glee club, trust me – "

Blaine had to stifle a laugh at that point. He gave Kurt a very pointed look.

"_Okay_. Fine, I would have dragged you into that choir room by the hair." He chuckled. "But, you know, I have a reputation to uphold too. Being seen singing with you might damage that."

Blaine shook his head at the boy's gal. "Oh, is that so? Who says I would want to sing with you?"

"_Everyone_ wants to sing with me. Haven't you heard? I'm practically a star."

"Careful." Blaine warned. "Doesn't Rachel have like, a copyright on that?"

"It'll be our secret," Kurt said. "And I'll also keep your little secret away from the likes of Mr. Shue."

Blaine smiled appreciatively.

"But," Of course there was a catch. "I'd like to know what you're doing in here."

"Practicing." Blaine answered in an attempt to keep things vague.

"For?" Kurt pressed.

"A thing." Blaine said, beginning to feel annoyed. "You know, you're really nosy"

Kurt huffed. "Fine, keep your secrets."

Blaine smiled. "I will."

"I guess I'll go then. But first," He gave Blaine a stern look and held out his hand. "Surrender the hat, Anderson."

Blaine looked up at him through his lashes, looking very much like guilty puppy. He slowly pulled it off and placed it in Kurt's waiting hand. Kurt put the fedora under his arm and began walking toward the exit.

"And Blaine," Kurt froze just short of the door.

Blaine looked up quizzically. The mild annoyance was gone from Kurt's voice, and instead replaced by something softer.

"Keep the cardigan – it suits you." Although Kurt was facing the other direction, the blush tinting his ears bright red was still very obvious. He pushed the door open and was gone. Bright light briefly filled the auditorium followed by a feint thud that reverberated as the heavy door clicked shut, and then the room was once again filled with semi-darkness.

Blaine lightly tugged at the sleeve of Kurt's _\- his _cardigan, as a small smile spread across his lips. He glanced back up at where Kurt had just been and started where he left off before the interruption. Once again, the bubbly tune filled the auditorium, and Blaine sang quietly.

_"I'll take your hat; your hair looks swell – "_

* * *

It was around midnight when Kurt was woken up by his phone buzzing.

_Will you help me?_ \- unknown

Kurt huffed and groggily shot back a reply.

_Who is this?_ \- Kurt

It took a few minutes for a reply.

_I landed a job doing the King's Island Christmas Spectacular in a few weeks. I have to sing Baby It's Cold._ – unknown

His sleep deprived brain flashed him back to watching Blaine parade around the stage earlier and he made the connection –

_Blaine?_ – Kurt

_Yes dummy_ – Blaine

_How did you get my number? _– Kurt

_Sam._ – Blaine

_Where did sam get my number? _– Kurt

Honestly, since when did Sam have his number? Sam always asked Finn to pass on messages, why did he never text him?

_? _– Blaine

Kurt huffed.

_why do you need help? u sounded just fine when earlier. amazing even. _\- Kurt

_Seriously Kurt. Please?_ – Blaine

Kurt was honestly about to say no just on principle . . . but he couldn't. Blaine knew just how to make him do what he wanted.

_Meet me in the choir room thirty minutes after last period._ – Kurt

He didn't bother to wait for a reply. Kurt dropped his phone back onto the nightstand and rolled back over.

**. . .**

The next day they met in the choir room as planned.

Although a bit annoying, Kurt couldn't deny that there were certainly worse ways to spend his time than singing with Blaine. In a few of his daydreams, Blaine having a terrible voice was always a huge detriment to their fake-relationship, so in a way this worked.

Kurt started out their practice session by running through some simple scales and a few other vocal exercises. Two days ago, Kurt would have been utterly shocked by Blaine's near perfect pitch, but having heard him sing so beautifully the day before, the exercises only served to prove his suspicions – Blaine had received _some _sort of lessons previously. He was too good. Blaine knew how to sight read and his range was quite impressive. Of course, it had nothing on Kurt's, but Kurt wasn't going to mention that – at least not yet anyways.

After they finished warming up, Kurt looked Blaine over appraisingly.

Blaine shifted under his watch. His hand automatically came up to his face and rubbed at it. "Did I forget to shave again?" Kurt watched as Blaine comically attempted to look down at his face, and could no longer contain his laughter when he went cross-eyed. Kurt shook his head and pulled Blaine's hand off his cheek.

Kurt sat down against the piano and crossed his arms." I don't get it."

Blaine stood up and mirrored Kurt's position, waiting for him to continue.

"You seem very capable _and _you obviously know you're stuff. Hell, you could probably teach me some things. You want my opinion?" Blaine tilted his head, and Kurt continued. "You said it's been awhile since you've done any singing, but honestly you're probably up there with Rachel Berry." He couldn't help but laugh at the image of Blaine Anderson usurping Rachel from her golden spot on the podium.

Blaine lifted his eyebrows, having not expected that response.

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Of course, if you tell her I said that I'll deny it."

Blaine rolled his eyes and pretended to seal his lips.

. . .

According to Blaine his show ended up going well. He never elaborated on it, but that may have been because Kurt laughed at him when he mentioned how much of a diva his partner had been.

_"You really have entered show business." _Kurt had chided him.

It had been a week since then. Kurt was out making his rounds and handing out the Christmas presents he had gotten for everyone. He'd already visited everyone else Blaine was the last on the list.

As Kurt walked up the driveway a young man appeared from inside.

"Blaine, buddy! You're next appointments here!" The guy called merrily.

Directly following this, an empty can flew through the open door and missed the both of them by inches. Kurt stumbled backward in surprise and the guy just smirked.

"Have fun, dude." The guy didn't stick around for an answer and walked off laughing.

After that little display it was a small miracle that Kurt didn't turn tail. The only thing keeping there at the moment was really his guilty conscious. Of course, he didn't know exactly what he was meant to be feeling guilty about – in fact, he was quite sure he hadn't done anything. However, with the mind he had, he'd already thought this through logically for the past several hours to assuage the guilt – only to remember how sad Blaine looked earlier and go back to feeling guilty. In any case, Kurt wasn't one to leave a friend alone on Christmas Eve, so here he was. Putting on his metaphorical big-boy pants, Kurt silenced the part of himself that wanted to back away from this challenge and stepped inside, albeit cautiously.

The unmistakable sounds of retching and coughing led him straight to the bathroom where he found Blaine slumped on the ground. It was a pitiful sight to behold: Blaine had his face resting on the bare toilet and was facing away from the door, so he wasn't aware of present company.

"So," Kurt crossed his arms and leaned back on the sink. "Should I even bother asking who that guy was?"

"Matt." Blaine mumbled. "He's my cousin and he's –" He couldn't even finish speaking before he started the retching again. The force of it caused Blaine to launch his head into the toilet bowl. Beads of sweat slid down his face and he moaned weakly, and then he moved his face back onto cool porcelain until the cycle repeated again. His curly hair, which hadn't been cut since the beginning of school when he buzzed it all off, flopped onto his forehead and into his eyes.

Kurt sighed deeply and then sat down on the tub and pushed Blaine's hair out of his face. The putrid scent of vomit permeating throughout the room, but Kurt dutifully remained by his friend's side until the episode ended.

"You should try to get in bed and drink some water." Kurt insisted, stroking Blaine's damp hair gently.

Blaine reluctantly agreed and, with Kurt's help, managed to stand up. He swayed for a moment, steadied himself, and then shuffled into the living room where he plopped down onto the couch.

Kurt stopped in the kitchen to get him a glass of water and by the time he got back Blaine appeared to have passed out. He grabbed a nearby blanket and threw it over Blaine, then sat down at his feet.

The living room looked so bare. There were no decorations, no trees, no lights – absolutely nothing to suggest it was the holidays in any religion or language.

It once again occurred to Kurt that Blaine was all alone. Obviously he knew about his family's history, but he'd assumed that they would have either worked things out by now or at least set them aside for Christmas. After all, Christmas was a time for family. It was a solid fact in Kurt's mind, and he never questioned it or took it for granted.

Kurt ended up staying over that night – if anything to make sure Blaine didn't roll over and drown in his own vomit. He figured his parents would understand and friends were just as important.


	8. No 1 Party Anthem

**_A/N_****_: _****_I do not own Glee_******

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"Come in!" Kurt called.

Finn nudged the door open with his foot and lumbered in.

"Ooh," Kurt chirped, noting the two mugs in Finn's hands. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Finn offered a wry smile as he placed the mugs of warm milk on the bedside table.

"Looking for some old lady chat?" Kurt joked. "I have heard some very interesting rumors off the grape vine that you might be interested to know."

Finn looked mildly intrigued for a moment, then immediately shook his head. "No, not tonight. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Kurt joined him on the bed, bringing one of his legs up under him. He picked up a mug and took a small sip. The milk wasn't quite as scalding as it usually was, suggesting Finn may have been lurking outside for quite some time. Rather than chastising his brother for being creepy, he asked, "What's on your mind?"

"It's, well uh, it's kind of about the girls."

Kurt smiled knowingly. "Ah. I see."

Finn blinked at him. "So do you already know what I'm thinking?"

"I think I have an idea. It's not like it's not the usual issue, Finn – you and girls. What did Rachel do this time?"

Finn sighed, once again looking unusually pensive. "Not just girls, like, girls in general this time. Like, _the _girls."

"Glee club girls?" Okay, so he had no idea where this was going.

"Uh, yeah." Finn said. He hesitated before continuing, "I'm assuming you've heard of Rachel's plan?"

Kurt snorted. "Yeah, her incredibly stupid plan."

"I don't think it's that stupid," Finn wrung his hands. That he had his mind stuck on Rachel was written across his face. The letters even italicized when that dopey grin of his lit up his eyes. "I thought it was actually pretty good." he admitted, enthusiasm waning at Kurt's obvious disdain for it. "But yeah, that plan."

"What about it?" A thought occurred, making him shake his head. "If you've come here to ask me to try to convince Rachel Berry to abandon one of her schemes, especially one Mercedes and Lauren agreed to, then you've seriously overestimated Rachel's ability to be rational."

"Yeah, I've already talked to her about bailing out, but she's pretty – you know how she is. I figured there's no way to talk her out of it completely, so I thought of an alternative to at least keep them from getting killed." Finn refused to make eye contact. "I thought of someone who might be able to step in and help, so the girls don't have to be on the field the whole game. I need your help."

"If you're trying to get me to convince Blaine to join the football team, that's not going to happen." Kurt said.

Finn looked as though that idea had just occurred to him, and that made Kurt uneasy.

"I mean, it'd be really cool if you talked to him about it, but I was actually talking about you."

Kurt jumped up off the bed and stepped away from it, as though it was painful to be near. "No, no, no, no."

Finn stood as well and walked toward him. "Why not?"

Kurt continued to back away from the taller boy. "Why do I have to do it?" He retorted.

"You're the only one who can."

"Finn," Kurt said sternly. "No. I am not going to put on that hideous uniform and act as a human shield against ten-foot-tall Neanderthals."

"You wouldn't just be a human shield. You actually know the game – I know you're paying attention when your dad makes you watch. I don't see what the big deal is. You were on the team last year and you won us the game! This is a big game and you could protect the girls _and _help us win." Finn looked at him imploringly.

Kurt gave his half-brother a defeated look.

Playing another football game was something Kurt never thought he'd even consider. Honestly, he never thought he'd get the chance, but for the most part, it wasn't something he wanted to do…

**. . .**

The new ragtag band of McKinley Titans stood in a loose huddle off to the side of the bleachers. The glee club girl's had this cloud of excitement and nerves buzzing about them as they chattered on about strategies they'd never even have the chance . Meanwhile, the actual football players repeatedly side-eyed them with their arms crossed; they still didn't like Rachel's insane idea.

"You good, Kurt?" Sam asked.

Said boy was practically drowning in shoulder pads. Although he tried to puff his body up to make him look bigger, all his efforts did was give him a constipated look and red, shiny cheeks.

"Yeah. I'm great. We're totally gonna win this," he breathed.

Kurt knew he was totally lying to himself – which kind of defeated the purpose of lying in the first place – but he had to or else he would go screaming for the hills.

The last time he was in uniform was ages ago, and winning that one game had been a total fluke. Sure, he had a bit of natural talent hidden up his designer sleeve, but that wasn't applicable to a state championship game. The last team they had played had been a nearby team that, in all honesty, hadn't been all that much of a challenge to begin with. So yeah, his little last minute play had been a huge deciding factor in the game's outcome, but the McKinley Titans had also had a backup plan that would have easily destroyed the other team. This game wouldn't be like that. The other team was a very good team and this was a very big game that was about to go down. There was no way one decidedly pale, fragile teenager would be able to do much for them this time around.

Unfortunately, Kurt had already agreed to do this one thing for Finn, so he had to try to put a positive spin on this... Perhaps if he got too badly pummeled they'd have to cancel or at the least postpone the game, then Blaine would, out of nowhere, confess his immeasurable love for him as he lay wounded in the emergency room…

… Or he could just buck up and pray the other team didn't attack him like they had a personal vendetta against him, something that certain McKinley jocks would never be able to handle.

"Psst, Kurt." A voice hissed from the other side of the bleachers.

"Hmm?" was Kurt's spacey reply.

"I need to talk to you."

Kurt didn't even recognize the person speaking to him was Blaine until he was being dragged away from the girls. To his surprise, his kidnapper didn't look happy. The boy's brows furrowed deeply as he stood there with crossed arms and a prominent frown.

"What are you doing here, Kurt?"

Kurt was taken aback by the question. He thought it obvious with the football jersey swallowing him whole… By the tone at which it had been asked, he could only infer that it was, in fact, rhetorical.

"I'm playing in the game. Finn had this idea that maybe another guy will keep the girls safer."

"Is he insane?" Blaine exclaimed. "And what about you?"

Kurt mimicked Blaine's position. "What about me?"

"Even if the girls don't end up in a puddle, you're going to be running around out there with a giant target on your head. Besides, there's no way the Titans will pull out on top. Is hospitalization really worth losing a stupid game?" Blaine dramatically rubbed his eyes and huffed, "I can't watch this,"

While Blaine was having a moment, Rachel and Finn appeared, looking between the pair suspiciously.

"What is he doing here?" Rachel looked Blaine up and down disdainfully.

"I'm having a conversation with my – look, can we have some privacy for, like, two minutes?"

Unfortunately for him, the other's had eyes for drama and were watching them from a distance, clearly straining their ears for gossip. Sam broke away from them and ran up before Rachel could say something nasty back. "Hey, man. Nice shirt." He gave Blaine a thumbs-up. "You here to join, too?" he joked.

Blaine, clearly not in the joking mood, snapped, "I'm here to recue your brains from the jars Shuester obviously holds them in, and after I've done that I'd like to know why five girls, who have never played football, and Kurt are in uniform."

Sam was taken aback momentarily. Once those words sunk in, he actually had the humility to look ashamed. Finn followed suit, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, but ever so stubborn Rachel stood her ground.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "We're not actually going to play. When they start we'll just lie down." She looked at everyone with an insane glint in her eye and enthusiastically reiterated, "Just lie down."

"That is the worst idea I have ever heard." said Blaine.

"This has nothing to do with you," Rachel snapped. "Besides you're just being sexist because you don't think us girls can actually play with the boys."

"You're crazy if you think McKinley could actually win with, what, five active football players and four girls in the way for everyone to trip on." Blaine turned his back on Rachel and looked at Kurt imploringly. "Don't do this, Kurt." His voice was soft and desperate.

Kurt waved him off. "I'll be fine, Blaine. I've been on the team before. Nothing I can't handle."

Blaine gave him a look that suggested he had lost his mind. "Yes, you were the kicker." He seemed to have to take a moment to regain his composer, clearly trying to avoid yelling. Finally, he uncrossed his arms and pulled Kurt away from everyone's prying eyes and ears over to a more secluded spot.

"Kicker is one thing, but the other positions are different." He began in a condescending tone. "You could get really hurt."

Kurt folded his arms. "Who said I wasn't going to be playing kicker again?" He realized this was a stupid question the second it left his mouth.

"Kurt, think about this for a second. When there are barely ten people on the field everyone's going to be doing a lot of everything. This is beyond stupid. I won't let you do this," Blaine struggled with his words before blurting, "I forbid it."

Kurt actually scoffed at that point. "You can't forbid me. I'm not some fragile flower."

"Flower, no, but you're – " Blaine ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly disrupting it's perfect coif. "I've taken a lot of crap to keep you from getting killed by homophobic jocks, I'm not about to let that be in vain so you can get legally pulverized by more jocks. After all I've done to keep you safe, I'm not letting you risk this, Kurt."

Kurt began storming off, but Blaine was hot on his heels.

"You're not my keeper." Kurt spun around, nearly knocking into the boy but not caring, and ground out, "You don't have to babysit me."

"Kurt, please –"

"Why does this even matter to you?"

For once, Blaine didn't have any kind of smartass response to shoot back at him, he simply began sputtering incoherently.

"Yeah, exactly." With that, Kurt stomped off toward the field.

Kurt had, somewhat stupidly, hoped that Blaine would be happy for him, maybe even give him a pep talk about how he _'so had this.' _Since he obviously wasn't going to get that kind of support from Blaine, he allowed the girls' excitement to fuel his veins and turned his full focus onto the game.

. . .

"I still can't believe we won," Kurt was dazedly for the third time that night.

"I know, right." Finn frowned, "I mean, I knew we would all along, totally."

Kurt rolled his eyes at him.

"It feels great to win again!" Finn yelled, "Take that, Blaine!" He rolled down the windows and let out a cheer.

Kurt celebrated quietly in his head. While Finn turned up the music, he leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes.

The drive to Rachel's after-party didn't take very long, and soon the brothers were reluctantly being led into her basement. They were the first to get there because everyone else stopped to eat before they went home to get cleaned up. Finn and Kurt had only stopped by the house to quickly shower and let their parents know about the victory.

Both boys were well aware of how stupid it was to go to Rachel's party, but since the cool football players had boycotted the game, there weren't any after-parties to go to.

It was nearly half an hour before anyone else showed up. During that time, Finn and Kurt were forced to sit there in awkward silence…Well, Kurt was forced to sit through it. Finn's fate, on the other hand, was much worse. He was stuck siting off to the side while Rachel sent a constant stream of reproachful glares and longing glances in his direction. Once the others finally spilled into the small basement one by one, Kurt managed to shake Rachel off onto an unsuspecting Puck, and the brothers retreated off into a corner of the basement. Soon after, Puck got fed up and got to doing what he did best – getting everyone hammered. When they beer was introduced, it didn't take long for others from McKinley to make an appearance (much to Rachel's delight.)

As for Kurt and Finn, they had mutually agreed to not drink a thing that didn't come directly out of the kitchen faucet. Presumably, everyone else just assumed them to be the designated drivers seeing as each and every one of them wasted no time in getting completely and utterly inebriated.

Most everyone had paired off into little groups of stereotypical drunks and after some time a very drunk, very emotional Rachel managed to steal Finn away somehow, leaving Kurt to his own devices.

"You don't seem to be having much fun." A voice said in his ear.

Kurt involuntarily stiffened. All the sudden, a body vaulted itself over the couch and settled on an arm to Kurt's left. Naturally, it was none other than Blaine.

They hadn't spoken much since Christmas. That combined with their argument before the game made it difficult to laugh and talk like they normally did. Kurt tried his hardest to avoid eye contact, but after a few minutes, he couldn't help but ask, "Why on earth are you here?"

Blaine shrugged and said nothing. Instead, he brought a bottle up to his lips and took a deep gulp.

From the other side of the room the music jolted up to an astounding new level of loud as Brittany mercilessly twisted the volume knob on the stereo. Blaine slid off the arm of the couch and scooted over until he was pressed right into Kurt's side.

"I heard about Rachel's party from Puck." Blaine shouted over the music. "He asked me to supply some real alcohol." When Kurt didn't look all too impressed, he added, "And besides, I couldn't leave my best friend all alone at his first party."

Kurt looked over to a corner where two bodies were very tangled together. Sam and Santana seemed to have lost any sense of self-awareness and were locked in a very passionate embrace, completely ignoring everyone around them.

"He doesn't look very lonely to me!" Kurt yelled back at Blaine. "And I really doubt this is Sam's first rodeo!"

Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt's thick-headedness. "I meant you, dummy."

"Oh." Kurt said dumbly. "So we're BFF's now?"

"Shut up." Blaine said.

They watched everyone around them dance – many of them were simply jumping up and down and sloshing booze everywhere, and then there were those with partners who were grinding up on each other like a tacky rap video. Rachel's basement wasn't a very big space, so everyone was crowded no matter what, but none of them seemed to mind much.

"Do you want to dance?' Blaine suddenly asked, his mouth right up against Kurt's ear.

Kurt very much doubted the kind of dancing they would be doing to this music was going to be anything his father would approve of. Then there was the fact that Blaine starting a grind line with Kurt would be nothing short of announcing to the entirety of McKinley that he was a raging homosexual.

"Are you drunk, Blaine?" he snorted.

The other boy hadn't seemed so before, but obviously there was some sort of substance involved flinging his senses out the window. He tried to surreptitiously look at the label on the bottle in Blaine's hand, but Blaine seemed to think he wanted it and offered the bottle up.

"I'm not drunk, Kurt," Blaine stumbled over the words a little. "I just want to dance with you."

The words, _"Out and proud, just not forthcoming" _reverberated through Kurt's skull. Blaine said those words often enough, and with enough conviction that there was a time when Kurt without a doubt believed those words to be true. Now? Not so much. Saying it wasn't enough, and thinking back on Blaine's actions was good evidence to convince Kurt that while Blaine definitely believed those words, he was only lying to himself. Around Kurt, Blaine always let the persona disappear, leaving in its wake a dapper, energetic young man. However, the moment Blaine was thrown out of that little bubble of protection he maintained the cool, guarded exterior. During those times he was much tenser and wound up. This did not lead Kurt to believe him about being comfortable with his own sexuality, let alone in his own skin. And it seemed that it was only with Kurt that he was uncomfortable. When it came to Kurt or anyone else for that matter, Blaine didn't seem to give a damn about what they were.

Throughout Kurt's little mental tangent, Blaine patiently sat there with eyebrows quizzically lifted, awaiting an answer.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked in a small voice. He very much doubted that he could be heard over the pounding beat of the bass, but Blaine appeared to have gotten the gist of it.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Blaine helped Kurt up and pulled him over to a corner where no one was dancing or making out. At first, Kurt wasn't quite sure what to do with his body or where to put his arms. He barely knew how to dance to normal music, let alone the rhythmless electronic noise that was being blasted.

Blaine quickly sensed Kurt's reservations and yelled, "I'll be right back," before disappearing into the small crowd of bodies.

The room may not have been very large, but it was dark and he had no way of knowing where someone was other than the random zaps of laser light that would flash from the stage every few seconds.

All of the sudden the noise was replaced by a song Kurt was actually somewhat familiar with, much to his relief.

The energy of the room was stilted for a few moments while everyone synced with the change of pace. Then everyone began clapping in sync with the music and the atmosphere became, if possible, even wilder. Even with the change of pace that was a little more his speed, it was still difficult for Kurt to let loose with all of these strangers. So when Blaine wrestled his way back to the corner, Kurt was still standing there awkwardly. When he noticed the two beers in Blaine's hands, he shrunk even more in on himself.

"I'm not going to be that ass who forces you to drink, but I promise it'll make dancing more fun."

Although it was tempting, he and Finn did have a deal about not getting drunk. He told Blaine as much.

"One beer isn't even enough to get you buzzed." Blaine assured him. "And look," He wheeled Kurt around and pointed him in the direction of his stepbrother.

As it turned out, Finn was definitely keeping his part of the deal and in doing so looked positively miserable. All the way on the other side of the room, Finn was sitting alone on the stairs while sipping water. Every so often the strobe light would flash across him and illuminate his bored expression. Rachel wasn't too far from him, wearing her weird, old nightgown talking to some boys, so it wasn't difficult to figure out why Finn looked so put out. If anyone needed – no, deserved alcohol, it was Finn.

Before Kurt could worry too much about it, Blaine nudged him and offered him the bottle again. He grabbed it and took a hesitant swig. It didn't taste too bad, but the after-burn wasn't any good either.

By then, the previous song ended and a new one blasted. It wasn't a familiar tune, but it sounded even more fun.

After a few more gulps of the drink, Kurt's head began to feel fuzzy and warm. At that point, Blaine gently pulled it from his hands and placed both of theirs on a nearby shelf. When he turned back around, Kurt actually started jumping to the beat along with everyone else.

Santana finally wrestled control of the music from Puck and the beat transformed into something more electric like it had been before. Now that Kurt was a little more loosened up and admittedly slightly buzzed, he didn't freeze up. On the contrary, his body felt like putty as it began rhythmically swaying on its own. Blaine offered an out of breath smile. To Kurt's surprise, the boy's arms snaked around his shoulders. When Kurt's arms found their way around Blaine's waist, he was too out of it to notice his own actions.

After a few minutes of dancing like this – like every other couple in the room – the music found a slower rhythm. Blaine's head lolled forward and bumped against Kurt's. Rather than laughing it off and pulling away quickly, they were both content to stay there.

. . .

"Kurt!"

Something tugged his arm.

"_No_." He heard himself moan.

"Kurt!_ Kurt_!"

Kurt finally turned toward the source of the yelling. It was Finn.

"We have to go, man! We told your dad we'd be back by two."

Had it really already been three hours already? Kurt blinked the sluggishness out of his eyes and then ran over to the sofa to get his jacket.

When he returned, Finn was already half way up the stairs impatiently waiting. As Kurt followed after him, he remembered Blaine and stopped. He turned around to say goodbye, but quickly noticed the other boy had already found a new, now female, partner. That's right. Homosexual, man whore Blaine Anderson was dancing with none other than Rachel Berry. Any of the warm fuzziness and lightness that had previously filled his body began to evaporate. It wasn't the greatest feeling in the world, but instead of allowing the bile in his throat to get the upper hand, he forced the sudden nausea down enough to get up the stairs. Finn ended up having to walk behind him on the chance that he fell, but once they made it out the front door the crisp, winter air slapped him somewhat more sober.

. . .

An hour after Finn and Kurt left the party Kurt's phone began buzzing like crazy. Snuggly tucked into bed, Kurt ignored it as best as he could, but after ten straight minutes, he'd had enough. He flung his covers back and reached out for his phone.

The screen displayed four missed calls and a dozen text messages. All were from Blaine.

As soon as it was picked up, another call came in. Kurt was too busy scrolling through the messages to answer the call. Once he reached the bottom, he jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. When he swung it open a very intoxicated Blaine attempted to stand up off the welcome mat. Too drunk for coordination, he lost his balance and fell into bushes.

Kurt rushed over to help him up. "How did you even get here? Did you drive like this?" He looked around for a motorcycle.

Blaine shook his head emphatically. "No Puck did. He said he didn't want to deal with my drunk ass, so he dropped me off here. How rad is that?"

"Blaine, we need to get you home."

"No! No, no, no, no." Blaine begged. "I want to stay here with you."

Kurt looked at him incredulously. "No you don't." He said and continued trying to get his drunken friend to walk over to his car.

"Okay, I don't. I just – I don't wanna go home alone. I don't wanna be alone anymore." His eyes went really big, staring almost puppy-like.

Kurt huffed, "don't be a drama queen, you just left the party."

To Kurt's utter dismay (and slight terror) tears pooled in Blaine's big eyes and then began to flow earnestly. It wasn't crocodile tears but the racking sobs of someone too drunk to function that escaped. Kurt slowly reached out and hugged Blaine because that was the only thing that he could think to do. Rather than pull away like sober Blaine might have done, drunk, crying Blaine held on tightly.

"I won't make you go home. But you have to stop crying, at least enough to get up to my room without waking the whole house."

Blaine nodded.

When they finally made it up the stairs, Kurt glanced around quickly and then ushered Blaine into his room and locked the door behind them.

Not bad, Kurt thought to himself.

They somehow managed to make it to Kurt's room without anybody catching them and by then there wasn't a trace of tears on Blaine's face anymore, so that was a feat to be proud of.

It was interesting how quickly drunk Blaine bounced back. For someone who had just been bawling moments earlier, he sure transformed back into the bubbly drunk version of himself quite easily.

"Ku – Karry. Krut," Blaine was sitting on Kurt's bed babbling on and giggling.

"How much did you drink after I left?" Kurt asked.

Blaine attempted to count on his fingers. He stopped trying when he realized that he just kept poking one of his fingers over and over again. "Not enough." He said.

"Enough for what?"

Blaine pulled a face. "To make me forget kissing Rachel." As soon as he said it, he paled and ducked his head between his knees. Kurt immediately grabbed the trashcan and forced Blaine to put his head in it. The drunken boy spit into it a few times but, fortunately, didn't throw up.

"You kissed Rachel?" Kurt asked in horror.

Blaine refused to talk about it any further. Rather, he got right at home in Kurt's bed and snuggled into the covers. It was all very cute until Kurt realized he would have to sleep on the floor. Begrudgingly, he began making up a spot next to the bed and when it was done, he laid down. Once comfortable, he looked up and noticed Blaine was still awake and watching him.

"What, Blaine?" He asked, groggily.

"Why are you down there?" Without waiting for an answer, Blaine slid onto the floor right next to Kurt. By way of explanation, all he said was, "I'll sleep there too."

"Blaine. Just sleep in my bed. I'm not sleeping with you." At Blaine's puzzled expression, Kurt added, "It's not appropriate, or whatever. C'mon, move." Kurt sat up on his knees, coaxing Blaine to do the same, and then attempted to get him to move back into the bed. Due to Blaine's refusal to cooperate, they ended up in an awkward sort of hug. Even though Kurt was a head taller than him, Blaine's stouter figure made them about the same weight, so Kurt ended up not having any leverage. He finally stopped trying to pull the other boy up and sighed in defeat.

"Why won't you sleep with me Kurt?" It truly was an innocent question, but it threw Kurt's mind into overdrive.

Blaine leaned in, his breath hitting Kurt's neck, and what he did from there would haunt Kurt's thoughts and dreams for months – it started when Blaine brushed his nose down Kurt's neck. The shiver that followed prompted Blaine to softly press his lips there next. With each touch of lips to skin, the kisses got harder and wetter. He continued to do it and Kurt let him.

It wasn't until Blaine sucked particularly hard on a spot below his ear that he was able to snap back into the situation.

"You're hot," Kurt panted. "but I did not consent to this!"

One light shove was enough to send Blaine tumbling backward into the bed frame. He bumped his head on it and let out a small moaned, "Ouch."

"C'mon. I'm going to give you my bed and we're going to forget all about this." Kurt eased him up and helped him get under the blankets again.

After that incident, Blaine didn't protest anymore and fell asleep in minutes. Kurt, on the other hand, lay on his makeshift palette trying to make intrusive thoughts vanish.

. . .

"Hummel, is that a hickey?"

Kurt scowled at Blaine's loud voice and attempted to shrink into his hood. The two hadn't spoken since a few days previously when Blaine snuck back out before Kurt woke up. It was like a awkward walk of shame between two friends except, hmm, Kurt didn't even get laid.

Kurt tried to walk faster, but he was in the middle of the math hall after glee club practice, so there weren't even any crowds to disappear into. This resulted in Blaine quickly catching up.

"Hey, you," he greeted.

"You're looking well for someone who threw up in my shoes in the wee hours of the morning."

Blaine's smile faltered. "What?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Wow. You really don't remember anything do you?"

Blaine shrugged like he it was completely normal – well, for him it probably was. He didn't seem at all bothered by that and instead of discussing it further, he zeroed in on Kurt. "So somebody got lucky the other night." He lightly brushed his fingers across the purple bruise on Kurt's neck. Either he didn't notice or ignored the small shiver it produced and continued on, "Please tell me it was Puck. I always thought he was a little – "

"It wasn't Puck." Kurt quickly interrupted.

Blaine's jaw dropped open and his hand clutched his heart. "_Oh_, not Rachel."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Then who? Sam? _Finn_?" Blaine said in a mock scandalized tone.

"It was you!" Kurt blurted. As he said it, his cheeks flushed a deep burgundy. Still, he somehow managed to grit out. "Blaine, you woke up in the middle of the night and like, attacked me."

Blaine's joking demeanor instantly vanished, and his face drained of all color.

"Do you remember any of it?"

"No." Blaine's eyes widened. "That couldn't have – I'm not _that _horny of a drunk."

"It's fine. Let's just agree to never speak of it again."

"Oh my god. What?" Blaine ran his hands through his hair roughly. "What –"

Sensing the oncoming panic attack, Kurt quickly cut him off, "Nothing!"

"Then what –"

"I told you to stop and slept on the floor." Kurt admitted. "What kind of friend would I be if I took advantage of you like that?"

"A friend who was molested by a drunken idiot."

Blaine gave him a strange look. He looked genuinely worried about what happened. Even more shocking than being given a hickey by Blaine, the boy opened his arms and pulled Kurt into a brief, though not unwelcomed, hug. When he pulled away, it was with an uncharacteristically shy smile. His eyes darted from Kurt to literally every other spot in the room as he stood unsure of where to go from there.

Kurt spared them both the awkwardness and said, "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Blaine fell into step behind him. "So, what else happened at that party?" He asked, trying – and failing – to sound casual.

"I dunno, danced for a few hours." Suddenly, Kurt recalled what Blaine had told him. "Oh yeah, apparently you made out with Rachel."

Blaine groaned. "Why couldn't you have stayed?"

"I seriously doubt I could have wrestled you out of the arms of Rachel Berry."

"I mean I'd rather have kissed you." Blaine said this casually enough.

Blood rushed into Kurt's cheeks as just the thought of it caused his stomach to swoop. He figured that Blaine probably meant it but at the same time didn't mean anything by it. Besides, his mind did not even need to go there. He'd already been groped by Blaine; that was enough for the year. Anyhow, he didn't think making out with him while they were both under the influence would have done much good for either of them. So instead of making things unnecessarily serious, he diverted. "Was you kissing somebody just inevitable?"

It was Blaine's turn to blush. "Yeah, kind of."

"Duly noted. I'll make sure to have my running shoes on next time."

It was almost funny how quickly Blaine bounced back into quippy, flirty banter. He said with a flirtatious grin, "I think I can definitely catch you."

Over time, Kurt tried really hard to play the entire situation off as just a funny mistake that he would quickly forget about, and he thought he was doing a half decent job seeing that Blaine never mentioned it again. The fact was that ever since that night dancing with Blaine, his dreams had taken a very different turn. Suddenly his dreams had turned very _sexy_.

* * *

**Next time on Do I Wanna Know... ** **Fire and the Thud:**

_Blaine rose from his stool and went to stand with Holly and Mr. Shue._

_Mr. Shue smiled and placed his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine Anderson here was a student leader at his previous school and helped teach sex education to his younger peers." _ _He didn't notice Blaine's hand inch behind him and high-five Holly, nor did he notice her wink back._

_Kurt fell into the nearest chair, where he slumped down as far as he could and covered his faced with his hand. This was not happening._

. . .

_"I hope that's not seriously one of the requirements for regionals, because with Kurt and those dance moves, we don't stand a chance." Santana said as she passed by Kurt._

**_. . ._ **

_"What makes you think I can teach you sex appeal?"_

_"I think we all know Mr. Shue bringing you in to teach us how to group bond or whatever was total bull. It was just a cover up for him to try to get more provocative. And because you're," Kurt struggled for words. "You're, well, you. Can you help me out or not?"_

. . .

_"Then what do you say we get out of here, somewhere more private?" Blaine said breathlessly._


	9. Fire and the Thud

Kurt and Mercedes plopped down in the back row behind Tina, Mike, and Artie. Mr. Shue was still in this office, and he appeared to be speaking to someone. Whoever it was they were concealed by the darkened office window, and only a few strands of platinum blonde hair peaked out.

"Yo, what's Anderson doing here?" Artie wondered aloud.

Everyone turned to Kurt for answers.

Kurt eyes darted to the front of the room where Blaine perched on a stool away everyone over by Mr. Shue's office looking utterly out of place. How had he not noticed him earlier? This sort of thing was usually on Kurt's radar. To Blaine's credit, he didn't even acknowledge the fact that every pair of eyes in the room was locked on him.

"Did you finally convince him to join?" Mercedes nudged him.

Finn entered the choir. As he passed by Blaine he jumped a little and narrowed his eyes. Finn kept doing double takes as he walked over to the rest, so didn't notice the chair in front of him and tripped on it. He tried to play it off and the others all laughed.

"You said he could sing, right?" Finn asked, frowning.

Suddenly everyone's eyes were watching him instead. Kurt swallowed thickly.

He was just as confused as the rest of them. To be honest, he _had _thought about asking Blaine about joining, but in the end decided against it because he just didn't want Blaine in glee club. Blaine was too good. If there were ever a day where Blaine did decide that nothing would make him happier than being in the most uncool club in school, that would be the day that Kurt would lay flowers on the grave of his hopes and dreams. A voice like Blaine's would knock him out of the running for a solo. He may be in love with Blaine Anderson, but that didn't mean he was just going to step aside and adoringly sway behind him so he could sing meaningful duets with Rachel. Judging by the glare Finn was glaring at Blaine, he was thinking along similar lines and also didn't want him there.

Kurt frowned. That scenario wasn't likely though. Even if Kurt asked Blaine wouldn't have been interested. So that left the question as to why Blaine was here.

"Maybe he got in trouble." He finally said, but nobody was paying attention to him anymore. Instead their focus was up at the front of the classroom where Mr. Shue was writing something on the board.

"_Sexy!_" Shue announced, startling several people.

Kurt just stared at his teacher's sudden bout of insanity.

"No, this isn't about Regionals - at least not entirely. I'm less worried about that right now and more worried about the fact that it's become clear to me that some of you have been lacking when it comes to understanding the…the, uh…the intricacies of adult relationships. Yeah, anyways. Along with preparing for our regionals next week, I want to spend the week educating ourselves about some of these intricacies."

"Is this the appropriate forum for that?" Rachel inquired.

"Look, whenever we had, uh, issues in the past that are on our minds or giving us problems, it's always helped us to sing about it. So, this week I have invited two special guests."

Right on cue, Holly Holiday appeared from the office.

"Oh no! It's the salad lady!" Mercedes whispered to Kurt and clutched his arm.

Kurt shook her off and stood up. "So Miss Holiday is here to administer an impromptu – somewhat inappropriate sex talk. Why is he here?" He indicated Blaine.

Blaine rose from his stool and went to stand next between Holly and Mr. Shue.

Mr. Shue smiled and placed his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine Anderson here was a student leader at his previous school and helped teach sex education to his younger peers."

Mr. Shue didn't notice Blaine's hand inch behind him and high-five Holly, nor did he notice her wink back.

Kurt fell into the nearest chair, where he slumped down as far as he could and covered his faced with his hand. This was not happening.

"Where exactly did you go to school before?" Rachel asked suspiciously.

"None of your business." Blaine retorted.

In the back, Santana pretended to cough, _"Juvie!"_

"Anyway," Shue continued. "Holly will be giving you guys a short lesson in, uh... yeah. And Blaine here offered to help us prepare for regionals."

Everyone looked stricken.

Finn was the first to speak. "Wait. He's not joining is he?"

Mr. Shue's brow furrowed. "Well,"

Blaine cut across him. "No."

Kurt exhaled in relief. However, all of it disappeared after what Mr. Shue said next –

"After Brittany, uh, the other day… Anyway, it came to my attention that some of you are lacking education in certain areas."

Everyone's eyes bugged out.

"So instead of preparing for regionals, we're getting a sex lesson?" Finn asked incredulously.

"Not quite." Mr. Shue picked the marker back up and, in even bigger letters, wrote 'regionals' on the board above 'sexy'. "I have it on good word that one of the big themes for regionals is sexy. So you'll be getting a lesson on sex education while simultaneously prepping for regionals."

"So basically you ran out of lesson ideas," Puck mumbled.

Shue ignored him. "I decided why not mash it into one big lesson. Now I remember hearing Blaine at the King's Island Christmas Spectacular and I was blown away. You guys could seriously learn a thing or two about stage presence," that was also added to the board. "And for some of you - pitch."

Everyone, with the exception of Artie for whatever reason, stared at Blaine. To his credit, he ignored eye contact with all of them and didn't seem too annoyed at being outed as a singer. Kurt wondered if Mr. Shue head spoken to him about that prior.

Shue returned to the front of the room. "Lately I've noticed that some of you guys haven't been doing your homework and your voices as a group have suffered because of it. You guys haven't been meshing well. You guys need to learn to blend as a team."

Rachel's hand shot up, but she didn't even wait to be called on before asking, "and what would qualify Blaine to be teaching?"

"I'll have you know that before I came to McKinley I was in my school's all-boys a'capella group. Together we won dozens of competitions and, for a time, I was the lead singer." He shot back at her.

"To successfully accomplish an a'capella number you guys have to be able to unite as a whole. And since we are facing the Warblers next month, it couldn't hurt to learn that skill." Mr. Shue said. "For today's lesson I'd like everyone to turn their undivided attention to Holly."

Holly stepped forward and addressed the class. "Okay, so: _sex_. It's just like hugging, only _wetter_."

Kurt made a disgusted face.

"Okay, so let's start with the basics." Holly rounded on Finn. "Finn, is it true that you thought you got your girlfriend pregnant via hot tub?"

Finn didn't deny it.

Holly gave a pointed look, then she turned to Brittany. "And, Brittany, you think that storks bring babies?

"I get my information from Woody Woodpecker cartoons." supplied Brittany.

"Well, that's all going to end right here, right now. Because, today, we are going to get under the covers, all together, and get the ditty on the dirty.

"Ah, what about those of us who choose to remain celibate?" Rachel reached over to touch Quinn's arm, but she was shrugged off.

"Oh, well, I admire you. Although I think you're naive and possibly frigid, I do admire your choice."

So for the next half hour Holly indeed got to the dirty. The lecture began with an unnecessarily thorough description on exactly how the subject worked, then sang a wildly inappropriate song. Once she finally finished, she sat down and Blaine took control.

"Blaine's going to give you guys a lesson on stage presence and unity. Give him the same respect you gave Holly," Shue warned.

"Artie." Blaine said, nodding his head for Artie to join him by the piano.

"Is wheels seriously about to give us a lesson in sexy?" Santana scoffed.

"I like Artie." Blaine said simply.

Artie smiled smugly, looking very pleased with himself.

Suddenly a Justin Bieber/Brittany Spears mashup resounded across the room. The overall tone was sultry and hot. Up at the front of the room, Artie and Blaine fell into an entirely to choreographed performance to have not been collaborated on.

The situation turned worse when Blaine stood up and moved around the room, coaxing everyone into a more cohesive routine. Artie followed his lead and helped get everyone into their little grove. Naturally, Blaine gravitated toward the girls, flirtatiously helping them to dance more sensually.

Like at the party, Kurt just stood awkwardly off to the side while most everyone else got into it. At least this time he had Mercedes and nobody was drunk.

Blaine eventually appeared at Kurt's side gave him a look that made Kurt nervous. Instead of dancing around him like he had with everyone else, Blaine whispered, "Swaggie" in time with the song directly in Kurt's ear as he spun past him.

The rest of the lesson was a hazy blur. There was no way of getting around the awkwardness and absurdity of the subjects at hand, but with Blaine leading the pack, Kurt hadn't a chance.

Ever since that night with Blaine after Rachel's trainwreck-party, Kurt's dreams had taken on a whole new tone. Most nights before he fell asleep all he could think of was he gentle graze of Blaine's lips on his, and when the lights went out they became decidedly more sensual and embarrassing. On a good day it was difficult to look his friend in the eye, and Blaine's surprise glee club appearance and sudden seductiveness gave Kurt the unshakable feeling that he wasn't completely oblivious to these desires.

Once the shock of what had just happened died down everyone returned to their seats, chatting about the sexy performance. In his chair Sam was concentrating on body rolls, while Mercedes and Quinn quietly snickered. Santana pretended to fan herself.

"Well, I think that's enough for today, but for the rest of the week, this is something we need to continue to work on." Mr. Shue said, and then he proceeded to wrap up the lesson, and then everyone was let go for the day.

Everyone headed for the door, chatting amicably. Kurt lagged behind the group, hoping to catch Blaine's eye, but he was deep in conversation with Holly. He gave up and followed everyone else to the parking lot.

Santana said as she passed by and sighed, "I hope that's not seriously one of the requirements for regionals, because with Kurt and those dance moves, we don't stand a chance."

The others laughed.

. . .

"Did Mr Shue hunt you down or what? How'd he convince you to go?" Kurt questioned.

The frantic boy had showed up at Blaine's house only minutes prior and since had been throwing question after question.

"I was there because I asked to be, okay?" Blaine finally blurted out. "God, it's not that big of a deal."

Kurt finally stopped blabbing – "What?"

"I heard about the theme for regionals and I thought you guys could use some help. So, fine. Yes. I talked to Shuester about it."

"I still don't understand why."

"Maybe I was trying to be nice."

Kurt raised his brows, unconvinced.

"You're my friend, and you like glee club." Blaine crossed his arms. "Is it that big of a jump that I'd like to help my friend out?"

"I guess not."

"See? I'm not a completely terrible friend. I can be nice."

The expression on Kurt's face after that was not one Blaine particularly liked.

"If you really want me to succeed, then I need you to teach me what you know." Kurt paused for a moment and then said, "I need you to teach me how to be sexy."

"What makes you think I can teach you sex appeal?"

"I think we all know Mr. Shue bringing you in to teach us how to group bond or whatever was total bull. It was just a cover up for him to try to get more provocative. And because you're," Kurt struggled for words. "You're, well, you. Can you help me out or not?"

Blaine's mind flashed back to the night he crashed at the Hummel's. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?" Kurt demanded.

For the first time, the vastness of Kurt's innocence and naivety truly struck Blaine. He really had no clue.

"It's just not."

"But why?" Kurt pushed.

"Maybe it's just not for everyone. You have an amazing voice, so why do you need to sell your body to a couple creepy judges like that."

"So, what? You think I can't do it either? You're just like everyone else." Kurt stomped off toward the door.

Blaine ran after him. "Kurt, c'mon. Wait up!"

* * *

_"Go away, Blaine!"_

_Blaine caught up with him and grabbed his arm, pulling Kurt against him in the process. "Don't be like that."_

_"You're the one who won't help me."_

_Blaine chuckled. "I didn't say I wouldn't. I will, but you may not like the way I teach – it's more… hands on."_

_Pure resolve illuminated Kurt's face. "I'll do anything."_

_Blaine said nothing more as he slotted their fingers together and led him upstairs. Kurt had never even seen this part of the house, let alone Blaine's bedroom. He tried to take in his surroundings, but for some reason everything was vague and blurry. Once they finally made it to the bedroom, everything was too dark to see anything._

_Paying more attention to their surroundings than who he was with, it was a shock for Kurt to be gently pushed down. He thought he was falling and panicked until he felt a cushy mattress beneath him._

_"You have to do everything I tell you," Blaine was saying._

_Kurt nodded mutely._

_Once he gave his unspoken permission, Blaine came swooped down and kissed him directly on the lips. After Kurt regained his composer, he pressed back. It didn't feel anything like he thought it would. Rather, it was rough and quick, and the kiss barely felt like anything at all. It was as though he was watching it from above, yet there was no direct emotion or feeling involved. Still, he ignored everything I his brain that screamed for answers._

_This continued on for what felt like forever._

_Blaine suddenly broke away. "I need you to be better." He said. "You need to be sexy."_

_"I'm trying!" Kurt exclaimed._

_Blaine fell into a fit of laughter. "Did you seriously think this was real? That you could actually make me feel it? You don't even have any passion, Lady-boy. You're boring, wooden."_

_Kurt scrambled to jump out of the bed, but his legs wouldn't move. All he could do was lay there as Blaine continued to shout abuse._

In reality, Kurt eventually managed to work himself up enough to gain consciousness. Once he finally realized that he'd been dreaming, he threw his face into the nearest pillow and yelled his frustration – both physical and emotional.

. . .

At school the next day Kurt couldn't concentrate. It was because the previous night, for the first time in his life, his mind had gone places that couldn't be unseen. For the first time in his life, his body and mind had come to together and formed a teenage boy with dirty urges. And for the first time in his life he was actively avoiding Blaine Anderson out of pure shame. All of this was his fault.

Even rejecting him, Blaine had been undeniably sexy, and maybe the fact that he had already been exceedingly wound up and frustrated hadn't helped things. And now because of that he was avoiding him. Naturally he couldn't avoid him forever - they did have several classes together. He could probably pull off acting normal around Blaine so long as he could find a pretense for avoiding eye contact. Looking Blaine in the eye ever again would be too embarrassing.

Kurt's mind produced images and sounds from last night of its own accord. He could still remember everything clearly – Blaine's hands everywhere, his hot breath, his lips... Kurt groaned loudly into his hands.

* * *

"Here. Use this." An unfamiliar voice said.

Burt turned around. Behind him, a young man with dark hair held out a wrench – the exact wrench he needed. Impressed, Burt took it, and then turned around and went back to work.

"You seem to know your way around your tools. You lookin' for a job or something, son?"

The kid chuckled. "Oh, no. I just know a thing or two about cars, and I really have Kurt to thank for that."

The mention of his son caught Burt's attention. He stopped what he was doing and looked the kid over again. The first time around he'd only really noted his hair, but now he recognized the leather jacket and eyebrow piercing Kurt was always going on about. "You must be Blaine."

He nodded. "So you've heard of me then?"

"Kurt never shuts up about you honestly. Speaking of, he's actually over in the office if that's who you were looking for."

"Actually, I thought I should formally introduce myself," Blaine fidgeted with his hands. "And I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Kurt."

Burt leaned back against the car and crossed his arms.

"Have you ever talked to him about sex?

Burt's eyebrows flew up. "Are you gay? Or straight, or what?

Blaine's face scrunched up, and his eyes darted around. Without a single word, Burt knew. "Anyway, uh, good. I mean, you know, whatever, but, uh, good for Kurt. He needs someone to talk to."

"Well, that's kind of my point. I've tried talking to him, but he basically puts his fingers in his ears and starts singing."

"Well, when he's ready, he'll listen.

"I'm worried that it might be too late. You know, McKinley doesn't even have sex ed classes. Most schools don't. And the ones that do almost never discuss what sex is like for gay kids. Kurt is the most moral, compassionate person I've ever met.

Those words put a reminiscent smile on Burt's face. "He gets that from his mother."

"And I'm blown away by you guys' relationship. So I think it'd be really cool of you to try to have a conversation about this with him. I mean all the information is out there, but I went searching for it. Kurt won't. And one day, he'll be at a party and maybe have a few drinks, and he'll meet some guy and start fooling around, and he's not going to know about using protection or STDs."

Red-faced, Burt made to continue working, but Blaine walked around in front of him again."Look, I know I may just seem like some punk kid trying to get into Kurt's pants, but I'm serious about this. You think the first time I was out there I knew what I was doing? I had to figure it out. You know how hard it is to stop once you start doing those things. And I didn't know anything about protection then. It's a miracle in itself that I never got anything." Blaine paused. "I'm sorry if I'm over-stepping."

"You are." Burt said, though it wasn't unkindly.

* * *

**"**Did you see him all up on our girlfriends? What was that about?" Finn huffed.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Face it, Finn; you just don't have what it takes anymore. And guess what? Anderson is way hotter than you. Isn't that right, Berry?"

Rachel shrunk down in her seat, but she was visibly blushing.

"I mean, we all totally saw him and Rachel getting it on at that party," said Santana in a raised voice.

The glare that Finn sent her couldn't even compete with the jealous look Kurt sent Rachel.

"I wouldn't be surprised if did it after we all left."

Everyone flinched. Even Quinn seemed to realize Santana had gone too far. As for Kurt, he was positively stewing in anger. It didn't help how pissed he was at Santana for what she said about him the other day. That, combined with what had happened with Blaine made a dangerous combination.

"I don't think even Blaine was that drunk." Kurt muttered. It hadn't been said quietly either, so everyone heard. Rachel gave him a hurt look, making him backtrack, "I didn't mean it like that, Rachel."

"Then what did you mean?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt folded under the glares he received. Even Mercedes was defending Rachel.

"I'm saying that Blaine doesn't even like girls." He gritted out.

After he said that, the angry faces in the glee club turned to mocking smiles.

"And what evidence of this do you have?"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day."

"Yeah Kurt, you kind of have a history."

"I think I know gay when I see it."

"I've never seen him with a guy." Santana said. "In fact, I've only ever seen him flirting with girls."

"He literally brings home a new guy every week. He's has the biggest thirst for hunks I've ever seen!"

"Wanky."

"And I know Santana."

Santana opened her mouth to protest, but after a glance at Brittany, she closed her mouth.

"Kurt, you're delusional." Mercedes said.

Before he could defend himself further, Mr. Shue walked. "Hello, everyone." He greeted. When no one replied back, the bright smile on his face dimmed. "What's wrong?"

Kurt flung his bag over his shoulder and stormed out.

* * *

After hearing a frantic knocking, Blaine went to go see who was at the door. He was surprised to see that it was Kurt. Even more so by the horrified expression on his face.

"I am so sorry, Blaine!" was the first thing Kurt said.

"What did you do?"

"I accidentally told the glee club you're gay. I'm so sorry!" Kurt blurted out.

Blaine sighed and opened the door wider, allowing Kurt to come in. He had to walk Kurt to the couch and sit him down.

"How did that even get brought up?"

"All of the guys were pissed that you went all 'Mr. steal-your-girl' on them. And Rachel was going off on how –"

This actually made Blaine smile a little. "Do I detect a little jealousy?"

Kurt stared at him, mouth agape. "Blaine I just outed you."

It was almost funny how Kurt thought the glee club was the whole world.

"Kurt, I don't exactly hide my sexuality, I'm just not forthcoming with it."

"Still."

"You're right." Blaine shrugged. "I probably should be mad at you, but you're cute when you're jealous."

After their conversation, Kurt didn't stay for long, and Blaine was glad for it. It wasn't that he was upset with Kurt, but that he needed time for himself.

For the most part, he felt that Kurt should be angry at him for the way he'd treated him. Especially after the night he gave him a hickey. Although, that didn't seem like a big deal, it was. It didn't matter that he was drunk at the time; he blatantly took advantage of Kurt without his consent. Even worse, he couldn't even remember it happening. Ever since that night, all Blaine could think about was how that was the exact same situation that preceded his first kiss. The only difference was that Blaine hadn't been strong enough to say no or push him away. So if Blaine was grateful for anything in his life, it was how strong and brave Kurt was.

Later that night, all of the silence and time to be alone with his thoughts finally took its toll. Blaine needed something to relieve it.

* * *

Kurt walked into the kitchen as soon as he got home from seeing Blaine. His dad stood with his back to him as he loaded up the dishwasher. Not thinking anything of it, Kurt made to go upstairs.

"I need to talk to you." Burt said, making him freeze. "I think it's about time we had a certain talk.

Kurt's body tensed. All he could do was stare directly ahead in shock as his father wheeled him over to the kitchen table.

* * *

The sun had long since gone down and only a handful of employees remained at the mall, all closing up for the day. One young man stood at the Gap's checkout counter folding back up a few returned items.

"Hey, you."

The boy at the counter dropped the shirt he was folding in fright. He gave Blaine an annoyed look, then moved to pick it back up.

"What are you up to, Jeremiah?" Blaine said in a fake-casual tone.

"I am closing the store, so if you'd kindly wait outside."

Blaine hopped up onto the counter. "Cool. I'll keep you company then."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes, but it was with a faint smile on his face. He began closing the cash register, Blaine silently swinging his feet beside him. It wasn't until he finished counting the money that he noticed Blaine had disappeared.

A full voice resounded throughout the small store.

_Baby girl, where you at? / Got no strings, got men attached / Can't stop that feelin' for long no_

Blaine appeared from behind a clothing rack. As he danced back over to the front counter, he pocketed several items along the way, including a pair of socks and pink sunglasses.

Jeremiah stepped in front of him, arms crossed. He held out his hand expectantly with eyebrows raised. Grinning broadly, Blaine pulled the stolen merchandise from his pocket and dropped it into Jeremiah's hands.

"You know, the store's now officially closed and I'm leaving, Blaine."

Blaine kept getting closer until their feet were touching.

"Seriously, we can't do this here." Jeremiah warned, glancing up at the security cameras overhead.

"Okay." Blaine smoothed the lapels on Jeremiah's jacket out and looked at him innocently. "Then what do you say we get out of here and go somewhere more private?"

* * *

**Next time on Do I Wanna Know... **

_"I can't believe people have been celebrating this holiday for centuries. Call me hopeless at romance, but I hate this holiday."_

_"Really? I never would have guessed you of all people." Kurt deadpanned._

_. . ._

_"You know my dad had a talk with me this weekend?"_

_Blaine suddenly choked and nearly spit out his tea. "Oh?" He attempted nonchalantly._

_. . ._

_"So, look; this isn't anything formal, but my dad's been way of who I'm hanging out with. He wants me to bring you over just to pop in and say hi so that he knows I'm not befriending drug dealers."_

_. . ._

_"Blaine, you're a cool guy, but you know I'm really not looking for anything serious. I just got out of a relationship, and I don't want that again right now."_

_"Of course not. Why would you? I mean I like talking to you, but I don't think-" Blaine swallowed thickly. "I don't think we're a thing." He finished in small voice._

_. . ._

_"You doing anything for Valentine's day, kid?"_

_"Blaine's not answering my texts, so 'guess not." Kurt sighed._


	10. Chapter 10

"Adorable." Blaine said scathingly.

Kurt yanked the stuffed puppy out of Blaine's hands and dropped it back on the shelf. It began to sing a cheesy love song. Flushing with embarrassment, Kurt pulled Blaine by the arm over to the order line.

"I can't believe people have been celebrating this holiday for centuries." Blaine huffed. "Call me hopeless at romance, but I hate this holiday."

"Really? I never would have guessed you of all people." Kurt deadpanned.

"I mean, what's so great about a day where you're encouraged to lay it all on the line and say to somebody," Blaine made a sour face." 'I'm in love with you'," he mocked.

Oh, how Kurt was dying to have those words directed at him.

"I think it's tacky," Kurt admitted, "but I'm still a hopeless romantic so I guess I can't say anything. At the same time I kind of hate it. I'm probably the only person left in the whole school who's –"

Blaine held up a hand. "Okay I'm going to stop you right there. You know that is not true." He steered Kurt to keep moving in line. Before letting go, his hands stayed a moment too long and squeezed Kurt's shoulders in what might have been attempt at a comforting gesture. "And for the record I've never really been anyone's boyfriend."

"Me neither."

"It's totally overrated anyway."

"That's where we'll agree to disagree," said Kurt. "I don't want to sound pathetic, but I would at least like to be with someone at least once before I go to college and end up entirely too busy for romance anyway."

"Okay how about this," Blaine said. "If you don't find anyone before we graduate, we can be overrated together."

"Like My Best Friend's Wedding?"

Blaine laughed. "You can even be Dermot Mulroney."

"I'm Julia Roberts, obviously."

"Yeah, well I knew you'd complain if I made you the girl."

The couple at the front of the queue moved away.

"What can I get you?" asked the barista.

"I'll have a medium drip," Blaine glanced back at Kurt. "And a nonfat mocha for this guy."

When Kurt reached for his wallet, Blaine stopped him. "Don't even bother, dummy. It's on me." He said with a wink.

Kurt's smile quickly disappeared when Blaine began shamelessly flirting with the barista.

"You know what," Blaine said, feigning exasperation. "I left my wallet in my other motorcycle."

The girl blushed and said coyly, "I might be able to do something for you."

"Really? I guess I'll have to find another way to repay you-"

"That won't be necessary, I have mine." Kurt slapped a few bills on the counter. "Keep the change."

Out of the three of them he wasn't sure which one was more disappointed - or who was the most shameless of the trio. Kurt placed his hands on Blaine's back and shoved him along. Blaine rolled his eyes, but left to go find them a table. Meanwhile, Kurt stayed behind and glared at the barista.

In what he would look back on as one of his more gauche moments, he looked directly at the girl and said clearly, "He's gay, don't bother," and then followed after Blaine.

He didn't worry about whether Blaine had heard the exchange or not. Recently, the other boy had been surprisingly lax about it. Blaine wasn't exactly running about the school halls with a rainbow flag, but they'd discussed it after Kurt spilled to the glee club, and Blaine had surprisingly said that he didn't mind people knowing. It had seemed really, truly genuine. So naturally, Kurt was running with it, flag and all.

* * *

"What about you?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"What about me?"

"You said if I didn't find anyone. What about you?" Kurt repeated.

Blaine took a long drink from his cup and took his time swallowing. "Kurt, I highly doubt me getting a boyfriend is even a possibility." He bit his lip and frowned. "Besides I don't want a boyfriend; it's too messy."

"I don't follow."

Blaine crossed his arms. "It makes perfect sense."

Neither said anything for a few minutes.

Blaine took the pause to check his phone.

Nothing.

He shrugged it off. It didn't bother him. Over the past few weeks he'd been constantly texting Jeremiah. It was good to have a break from it for a little while. After all, texting every day and flirting _and_ making out usually signified a romantic relationship. That was something Blaine actively tried to avoid.

… But the thing was – he couldn't remember why.

Being with someone – feeling that kind of connection – it felt wonderful.

Kurt cleared his throat, startling Blaine from his thoughts. He looked up and noticed Kurt giving him a curious look with just a hint of a smile.

"What's got that smile on your face?"

Blaine locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket. "Nothing."

"Mmm." Kurt wrung his hands with a prominent frown on his face. "You know my dad had a talk with me this weekend?"

Blaine suddenly choked and nearly spit out his tea. "Oh?" He attempted nonchalantly.

"Yeah. It really got me thinking about some things. I know you don't think much of romance and fairy tale endings, but there's still love. Plain and simple. Maybe you could have that with someone."

Blaine gave Kurt a look of pure disbelief. It wasn't condescending, but doubtful. "Kurt," His tone suggested he was being deceived with naivety.

"I mean it. You may think I'm stupid-"

"I don't ever think you're stupid." Blaine said so matter-of-factly.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. "You matter too Blaine. You deserve to be happy."

"I appreciate you telling me this, I really do Kurt. But I'm not that guy. I've done everything a person can do, I've seen it all. You get to experience all of this stuff with innocence. You don't know what it's really like out there. And maybe you never will. I hope that you don't. I hope that you meet someone else like that, and you both can go through life with that same naïve outlook. I, on the other hand, can't do it over, so I'm making the best of it. I'm not very good at romance. I pretend like I know what I'm doing, and I can act it out, but there's nothing genuine about it."

Blaine immediately wished he could take back those words. The sadness and pity written all over Kurt's face made guilt twist in his stomach.

After that conversation, the pair didn't stay for much longer. There was no use making things more awkward.

_Ever the gentleman_, Blaine escorted Kurt to his car at the other end of the lot.

Kurt reached out to unlock the car door, but at the last second spun around. He scratched at the back of his neck and said, "So, look; this isn't anything formal, but my dad's been way of who I'm hanging out with. He wants me to bring you over just to pop in and say hi so that he knows I'm not befriending drug dealers."

When what Kurt asked sunk in, Blaine's stomach flipped not unpleasantly. He attributed it to having found a way to make up being such a 'Debby-downer.'

"Okay."

"Yeah, I know it sounds stupid - wait, what?"

"I'll do the 'meet-the-parents.'"

Kurt patiently waited for the "just kidding", but no sarcastic remarks came out of his mouth. "Blaine I'm serious. If you're going to embarrass me or do something stupid forget about it."

"Hey, I'm doing you the favor here." Blaine playfully bumped their shoulders. "Pick me up at six tomorrow night and set the table for four."

"Five," Kurt corrected. "If you're staying for dinner Finn will be there too."

"I figured you guys let him for at your feet and collect scraps. Hey! Where are you going - I expect flowers and wine!"

* * *

"Oh my gosh!" Kurt gasped. "What are you doing here? I was just leaving to pick you up."

Blaine shrugged. "I wanted to take the bike out for a spin, and I guess I just ended up here."

"How did you even know my address?"

Blaine pushed his way over the threshold. "Got it from Sam. Hey, Burt," he casually greeted.

Burt glanced up for only a second before returning his attention back to the newspaper… then his eyes shot back to Blaine. His eyebrows nearly few into his hairline – or lack thereof.

To Blaine's credit, he gave Burt – the man that he'd talked to about gay sex only weeks previously – the biggest grin and a wave for good measure.

"Hey, is that the Broncos game?" Blaine asked. He turned back to Kurt and said, "You're not going to take my coat?" then walked straight into the living room and plopped down next to Finn on the couch.

"I hate him." Kurt mumbled.

* * *

Dinner was an interesting affair.

Blaine had spent hours worrying about how things were going to turn out… only for them to turn out normal and, dare he say, pleasant.

Finn's mother, Carol, prepared a nice homemade meal. Nobody asked any intrusive questions (even Finn seemed to be on his best behavior.) Most surprising of all, Blaine actually got on well with Burt. Papa bear had been one of the things that worried Blaine and if he didn't like him then Blaine couldn't blame the man, especially after their first conversation. It was a small miracle in and of itself Kurt didn't appear to know about it.

After dinner, Blaine followed Kurt up the stairs.

His heart raced as vague memories from their impromptu sleepover resurfaced. Fortunately, they bypassed the scene of the incident and continued on to a secluded cove in front of a big window. It could hardly be considered its own room but it offered some privacy and, as it turned out, comfy bean bags.

"We didn't really have an extra space for a game room, so Finn and I sequestered off this little area. It was the only compromise we could come to without the guest room being taken apart," Kurt explained.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

Kurt lifted an eyebrow. "Who says I don't just kick you out now?"

"I believe I was supposed to be wined and dined?" Blaine crossed his arms. "No flowers or chocolates? Hummel, you've really lowered the bar."

"We fed you."

Blaine pretended to pout and continued to do so until he had Kurt's undivided attention.

Kurt wordlessly plucked a leaf from a flower pot in the window sill and stuck it in Blaine's jacket pocket. Seconds later they both burst into laughter.

… However, the joke lost all humor when a Capri Sun juice pouch flew through the air and hit him in the stomach. Another followed directly afterwards, but Kurt's reflexes were quick enough to not end up like Blaine.

"Mom said to give you those!" Finn called, disappearing into his room.

"Finn!"

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard! I'm sorry!"

. . .

"Who are you texting so much?" Kurt asked, popping another popcorn kernel in his mouth.

Blaine's cheeks flushed. "Just… Rachel." was the first excuse he could think of.

"You've been avoiding her like the plague since you got drunk and made out with her. Try again, Anderson."

"… Finn?"

Kurt leaned over to catch a peak, but Blaine swatted him away.

"You know it's illegal to read someone else's mail." He stuck out his tongue.

"Well, it's not nice to lie to your best friend either."

Blaine looked up from his phone and grinned. "So I am your best friend."

"I never said that. I may be yours, but you'll have to fight Rachel and Mercedes for that spot." said Kurt, still attempting to snatch Blaine's phone.

The theft attempts weren't taken seriously, and Blaine continued texting with one hand while holding Kurt back with the other. "You've been avoiding Rachel like the plague since I got drunk and made out with Rachel," he mimicked. "If you must know, I'm talking to a friend."

"A friend or a booty call?"

Blaine glared at him. "His name is Jeremiah, okay? And he is not a booty call."

"Do you like him?" Kurt pressed.

The smile that Blaine couldn't quite hide said all that needed to be said.

"See? I told you things would look up soon."

Blaine noticed the way Kurt's face fell for a split second and couldn't help but feel even worse for shooting down Kurt's kind words so easily the day before.

"Um, well, I should probably head out soon."

. . .

After leaving the Hudmel's, Blaine headed a few blocks down the street to Jeremiah's apartment. Blaine didn't even bother knocking, instead walking straight in (Jeremiah often forgot to lock the door. Yet another thing Blaine found adorable about him.) Jeremiah didn't even flinch when he let himself in. He only glanced up to see who it was.

"I need some serious caffeine, you don't even know." Jeremiah said.

Blaine laughed. "Isn't it a bit late for coffee?"

"This college physics class is kicking my ass. I deserve a bit of splurging. So, you in?"

"I think I've had enough today, but if you want I can go with."

Jeremiah grinned. "Cool. Just give me a sec to get dressed.

Blaine watched as the other boy rushed around the little apartment, sifting through drawers and throwing things around.

"So Valentine 's Day is tomorrow, you know."

Jeremiah stopped making a mess to snort and say, "I'm just not gonna worry about that this year. I'm hopelessly, happily single. The only way to be on Valentine's Day if you ask me."

"Single?" Blaine blurted out.

Suddenly, it seemed to click into place for Jeremiah. "I think we should maybe talk."

Blaine looked up at him through his eyelashes, desperately hoping to keep the anxiety off his face. "We better get going. Starbucks closes in half an hour."

Jeremiah crossed his arms, refusing to let the subject go. "Blaine, you're a cool guy, but you know I'm really not looking for anything serious. I just got out of a relationship, and I don't want that again right now." He vehemently shook his head, tight curls bouncing with each jerk.. "I don't want _that_ ever again."

Blaine cleared the "Of course not. Why would you? I mean I like talking to you, but I don't think-" Blaine swallowed thickly. "I don't think we're a thing." He finished in small voice.

Jeremiah sighed, not quite believing the other boy, but seeming relieved to just hear those words said, true or not. Regardless he said, "You know, I'm not actually that thirsty anymore. Maybe another time, huh?" He moved to show Blaine out.

"Wait."

* * *

Kurt awoke early the next morning to several velvety boxes and few small wrapped presents, undoubtedly Valentine's from Carole. It was sweet of her to do that for him, but it also served as a reminder of how alone he was. It was only too depressing that while most of his friends were out with their significant others, he was at home in pajamas with only presents from Finn's mother.

The rest of the morning, Kurt stretched out on the couch and played old romance movies. There were several times where he would pause the television to check and see if maybe Blaine had texted him.

They hadn't made any definitive plans, but, from their conversation at the Lima Bean, Kurt had thought they might be lonely together on the holiday of love.

… Of course, that had been before Jeremiah got in the picture.

Burt paused on the way out the door. "You doing anything for Valentine's Day, kid?"

Kurt sighed and dropped his messageless phone. "Blaine's not answering my texts, so 'guess not."

"You could always go crash Finn and Rachel's date." Burt shrugged.

"Dad. No. And Finn's with Quinn."

"I think I need to have a talk with that kid," Burt muttered to himself. He picked up the spare remote from the coffee table and clicked the power button, much to Kurt's chagrin. "At least go get some sunlight instead of moping."

"I'm am _not_ moping." Kurt argued.

"On behalf of me? Please? I'm going to the garage where I'll be breathing in exhaust fumes all day. At least get some fresh air for the both of us."

When he was on the receiving end of Kurt's infamous 'bitch face' for the last time, Burt marched on over and pulled his son off the couch by force. "Go get dressed."

With a final shove toward the stairs, Kurt finally relented. "Fine."

* * *

**Next time on Do I Wanna Know... **

_Kurt, who had previously sounded cheery, looked apprehensive. "What's wrong?"_

_He began walking toward him, but Blaine visibly recoiled, so he stopped._

_"Just - not," Blaine stopped speaking, in an attempt to organize his thoughts, and something very odd happened. "Right... now..." His voice imperceptivity cracked, but not so much that Kurt hadn't caught it._

_Blaine turned to Kurt, his eyes very wide. The other boy gave him a surprised look. Kurt finally closed his gaping mouth and then made to come closer again. As he did, Blaine spun around and stalked off._

_. . ._

_"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt asked._

_"No." Blaine immediately replied._

_. . . _

_"You don't have to go, but the glee club is going to regionals this weekend. So, there's that." He said unenthusiastically. Kurt didn't even bother to wait for a reply and left after a simple, "see you around."_


	11. Chapter 11

"So, I have work in like half an hour," Jeremiah started.

Blaine caught his eyes flicker toward the door and his heart dropped.

"Y-yeah. I better," He awkwardly motioned to nothing.

"Yeah. Well, see you around man."

And so for the first time in a very long time Blaine stood outside a one night stand's door. The ball of clothes in his hands weighed down on him like a ton of bricks. Jeremiah hadn't even seen him out.

At the top of the stairs he realized that he'd left his socks in the apartment.

Forget it, he thought.

There was no way he could go back. He didn't even think he could face Jeremiah ever again.

As he walked down the two flights of stairs he shrugged his shirt on and managed to do up a few buttons before giving up all together. When he slid into his shoes he hadn't even bothered with the laces and forced them on as they were.

This is why he never got attached. He never wanted to feel that way ever again, but even after changing everything, some things would always remain the same.

It didn't matter that Blaine had escaped his mother's clutches or that he could manipulate and seduce the men that crossed his path, he would forever remain the skittish kid who got taken advantage of too young, whose first sexual encounter blurred the lines between eager consent and drunken, all-to-quick-to-understand touching.

He could change his name, run far away and disappear, get away from those who inflicted the pain to begin with, but he couldn't get away from himself.

The emotions swirling through his head and chest manifested themselves physically. Suddenly his head ached and his throat was utterly dry. Still, he refused to slip so far into defeat that the tears welling up and blurring his vision would be freed.

Past the initial sadness and anguish, Blaine felt ashamed. He felt ashamed that he'd given himself to Jeremiah and been rejected. Consequently, every person he walked passed on the way to the parking lot looked down upon him, sneered at him, hated him. Of course, none of them knew that Blaine was gay, what he felt, or even that he had just had sex. It only felt like they were staring at him with disappointment and disgust. Yet he was scared of them and imagined their silent judgment. How else could they perceive someone so dirty and used?

It was freeing to be able to hop onto that old banged up motorbike of his and speed away, to leave that place as far in the distance as possible. As he zoomed down the highway all he could think of was the sudden need for a cup of steaming coffee and the comfort of his own bed. So he took the first exit toward the Lima Bean he could find.

During the coffee stop he avoided everyone's eyes and slipped in quietly, bought a drink, and slipped back out. As he trudged back to his bike, a friendly voice called his name and caused his body to freeze.

Kurt Hummel stood to the left only a few yards away. Ever the perceptive one of them, Kurt's cheery disposition evaporated into apprehension the moment he sensed trouble "What's wrong?" he asked, walking forward.

Blaine visibly recoiled, so he stopped.

"Just – not," Blaine stopped speaking, in an attempt to organize his thoughts, and something very odd happened. "Right... now..." His voice imperceptivity cracked, but not enough to where Kurt didn't catch it.

Blaine turned to Kurt, his eyes very wide.

Kurt managed to not stare and, instead, made to come closer again. As he did, Blaine spun around and stalked off.

The second he started walking tears began to prickle his eyes and his throat caught, seemingly out of nowhere. As the first tears began to flow freely, Blaine broke into a jog that quickly progressed into a run. His feet pounded heavily against the pavement, and his lungs burned.

Blaine ran and ran, not knowing where he meant to end. The chilly air froze in his lungs, making him pant and gasp but continue on.

After a time he began to recognize the surrounding neighborhood and pumped his legs harder 'til the familiar driveway disappeared beneath his feet and the old, white house stood in the way.

Blaine burst through his own front door, letting it slam behind him. Once under the safety of home, he let the facade go and his face crumbled. He couldn't believe that he'd been so stupid to fall for Jeremiah like that. Obviously he wasn't quite in love with him, but if their little arrangement had gone on for much longer who knows how far would things have gone?

. . .

The rain fell heavily and pounded against the small house without mercy. High winds howled, causing trees and plants to precariously whip around. Thunder boomed loudly, as though in competition with the downpour. Every now and then a great bolt of lightning would crack. Its light snaking through the blinds, illuminating the house's walls for moment before slipping back out, only to return moments later with greater force.

From inside the safety of his home Blaine let the curtains slip through his fingers and fall back against the window.

The storm had come unexpectedly not long after he'd arrived home. Due to the sudden downpour, returning to the coffee shop on foot for his motorcycle wasn't an option. Even so, riding a motorcycle back would have made an inauspicious task. Whichever way, he was stuck at home, alone, with nowhere to go. Even worse, he'd discovered earlier that the internet connection from next door was unavailable. There was always Kurt, but the storm had blown out the phone lines temporarily. Not that Kurt would have texted back after the way he treated him, especially not after the way he ran away earlier.

Perhaps it would have been more bearable during the daytime, but the last traces of sunlight had long since passed. Looking at the old alarm clock on the nightstand, he realized how late it had gotten. It was almost midnight and the weather still didn't seem to be letting up in the slightest.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath then exhaled slowly. Since the deluge had begun he'd grown increasingly anxious with each passing minute. Every crack of lightning and low growl of thunder caused him to recoil. When a particularly heavy gust of wind caused the house sway, he clutched the bed tightly, as though it would offer any protection.

He brought his knees up to his chest and ran his hands over his face and through his hair before wrapping them around himself. His chin dropped onto his knees, forming himself into a tightly coiled ball. The sensory overload of light wouldn't be so bad had it not been for the loud roars of thunder, but he'd long since given up on trying to drown that out as it seemed to become even louder in spite of him.

He hated storms. When he was a kid the loud noises and vibrations had always been a source of discomfort. As he grew older the fear had subsided, but evidently never fully disappeared given his position and elevated heart rate. As a child this could easily be solved with a hug or by crawling into bed with someone, whether it was with Cooper or his parents. Unfortunately that was no longer an option seeing as he was nearly an adult and living alone.

Although it would have been dangerous, he almost wished that he had taken his chances out in the rain earlier when it was only sprinkling. That way he at least wouldn't be alone. He could be at some friend's house playing video games or watching a movie – anything that could serve as a distraction. He could be a normal kid for once and just hang out with someone his age, one who he had no intentions of screwing… that had no intentions of screwing him…

That was all fanciful daydreaming. Once again, he didn't have anywhere to go. Not unless he moseyed on over to the Hummel's. He forgot his discomfort for a moment and chuckled at the thought of what Kurt's family would look like if he just walked in. That was a thought Blaine couldn't even entertain.

They weren't really even friends, a small part of his brain told him.

Blaine was more of a 'mentor' of sorts to Kurt. He protected him from bullies who got out of hand and taught him some valuable life lessons along the way. That was really the extent. Anyway, Blaine was sure the other boy had a crush on him. It would almost be cute if it weren't so depressing. What did that happy-go-lucky kid want with a guy like him? And if he wasn't this tough, good-looking 'bad boy' type, would Kurt still care about him?

A particularly loud crack reverberated across the sky, taking out the lights with it. They flickered momentarily, turned back on, and then disappeared altogether.

He sighed.

It all seemed like some sort of cosmic sign that read, _'you've made your bed, now lie in it.'_ The very house that had only months ago represented freedom was now his cage.

Before when it stormed he would just wait it out and do his best to try to drown out the noise, now all these profound thoughts were popping up all the sudden.

He blamed it on the lack of booze, or more accurately the lack of distraction. Without internet, liquor, or sex as that distraction he was suddenly at the mercy of his thoughts. He spent a lot of time and energy specifically on pushing these fears and insecurities. It was wasted effort if all it took was a little rejection for them to come bubbling up to the surface. Now that the protective walls had cracked just a little they started to really crumble for the first time in a long time. The storm outside raged on while a new one within Blaine began to stir.

Everything he should have said or done, everything wrong that he did, all of the bad thoughts stabbed and nettled him until he was tightly clutching his knees and squeezing his eyes shut; his face screwed up in a horrible grimace. He kept trying to negate these thoughts by combating them with positive ones like he used to. The problem now was that his problems had gotten so big and out of control that there weren't enough happy thoughts to overtake them.

… downstairs Cooper barked and howled, apparently only now sensing the weather…

Suddenly struck with an idea, Blaine uncurled himself from the mess of sheets. He left his own room and padded down the hall looking like a young child. His hair was loose and puffy, and the massive blanket wrapped around his shoulders threatening to swallow him only served to make him appear even smaller. He passed a window and a horrible jolt of thunder rocked the house which was followed up by a bright flash of lightning. Blaine jumped in fright and ran the rest of the way into the other bedroom, then leapt into the bed. His brother wasn't there, but his bedroom still remained completely intact from long ago.

He carefully arranged the numerous pillows on one side so that the bed didn't feel so empty, and then pulled the covers over his head. He immediately felt safer, less panicked. He still wished that he weren't alone. If he had no one who cared to go to, he at least wished that he had picked up a Ben before the rain got bad, even if that meant not being able to kick them out whenever he liked.

There were a many things Blaine wished for. Dare he say it, he wished he had a boyfriend that knew the right things to say or do to keep him sane. Someone there to just hold him.

It was very rare that he could actually admit that and certainly never to anyone.

Maybe he was just feeling nostalgic about when his parents used to hold him like that, back when _they_ still loved him.

The dying romantic inside of him fantasized about being curled up against someone in the way only being smaller could make happen. In his mind it seemed like it would feel amazing, that feeling of being protected rather than the protector, of feeling loved.

In his head the faceless boy's body curled around his own, wrapping his arms around him and he hooked his chin over Blaine's shoulder. When he snapped out of these thoughts Blaine always laughed at himself. Him, the guy who wouldn't touch anyone if fists weren't flying and certainly never longer than it took to get off, the one who only ever topped because the other way would be too personal, allowing someone to spoon him. It was quite ironic.

In these fantasies the boy never had a proper face, and other than being taller and leaner than himself Blaine always thought he might have softer features. His mother would say that was a hint toward an attraction towards women after all, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not.

For this reason, he always took home guys that were completely different from that: short, muscular, butch types. He used them as both a reminder of his sexuality, to silence the nagging voice in his thoughts that was always questioning himself, and a refusal to let anyone violate his one good thing.

Unfortunately, Jeremiah had tainted that in the span of a few hours.

Mostly, he was just sick of everything. Blaine didn't necessarily miss his family. What he did miss was the time when everything wasn't so messy and complicated between them. He was sick of living in this big house all alone, sick being alone all the time, just sick of living like this. Maybe it would have been better to have stayed in the closet and complied with the demands placed on him by everyone. Maybe it would have been better to never have been born at all.

. . .

An eternity later, Blaine's breathing finally evened out and his mind slipped into a state where thoughts flew million miles a minute and consciousness slowly left the world behind. He felt his body go numb and his eyelids felt weighted down. It was during these moments when he allowed his mind to go to fanciful places, to revel in his own vulnerability in the best way possible. In that moment he could almost remember what childhood innocence felt like, before the world opens your eyes and people turn you bitter. For that moment his thoughts were free and not weighted down by insecurity or biased from being burned time and time again.

. . .

Blaine blearily pulled the curtains back.

The storm the previous night hadn't ceased until the early hours of the morning, so the roads were slick and the air crisp. Even though the clouds had poured to the point that they should have been empty they still appeared grey and ominous. If anything, they certainly seemed to match the way Blaine felt upon waking.

All he wanted to do was crawl back into the sea of blankets and wallow, but if he'd learned one thing it was that feeling sorry wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to turn back time, it wasn't going to make anyone love him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him feel any better. So he forced the blankets back, dragged himself out of bed, and prepared to face the day ahead. Although his homework hadn't yet been finished, there were no clean clothes in the dresser and no food in the pantry, and his current appearance certainly left much to be desired, he was out of bed and refused to let himself be burdened any longer.

The person that he saw in the mirror was not himself. Not really. Blaine thought this to be a good thing – perfect even. He didn't want anyone to know him. He wanted to remain unrecognizable. He wanted to become nothing, just as he felt.

His goal was definitely a success. Overgrown hair gave his head the appearance of a bird's nest, an unshaven facial hair made his face look scruffy, and there were bags beneath his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Beneath the puffiness and the bags, they were dead. Gone were their liveliness and energy, to be replaced by something unrecognizable.

The routine that had remained infallible these past few months somehow endured except for one thing.

Finally, Blaine peeled his eyes away from his reflection and turned his attention to the small orange bottle beside the faucet. This was usually the part in his routine where he opened it. And although he did this, almost robotically as though it were a part of his programming, he froze as two little pills rolled into his palm. For the first time in his life he actually questioned what he was doing. Normally, he simply swallowed the medication and moved on with the day. However, this time he let the bottle tip over in his fingers and did nothing but watch as the contents spilled one by one down the faucet. Every pill represented all of the burdens in life being washed away.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a sort of euphoria. It came free and without conditions or restrictions.

When he walked through the threshold he felt weightless and unburdened. There was an odd sort of spring to his step as he left, yet his face remained passive and eyes dead.

Blaine thought he was doing right by himself. He thought that by burying his feelings and his past somewhere even he could no longer retrieve it was going to make him right again. But by not allowing himself to feel, he was slowly becoming numb.

Throughout his strange morning it never did occur to him that his motorcycle was still sitting in front of the Lima Bean until he was standing on the front porch. Blaine swore. Of course he would decide to leave his only means of transportation miles away the day cold weather set in.

Fortunately for him walking wouldn't be necessary; it seemed that Kurt had not forgotten. For the first time Blaine finally noticed his car parked in front of the house waiting for him. He let out a breath of relief and stepped out from underneath the awning. As he did so, something cold landed on his cheek and instantly melted. Several more somethings fluttered about, a few of which latched onto his jacket. He frowned up at the sky; it was snowing. To avoid the sudden weather as much as possible, Blaine braced himself and ran to the navigator.

Um, hi." Blaine said as he climbed in the passenger side.

"Hey." Kurt smiled at him, but it wasn't the usual friendly grin. Instead it was full of concern and trepidation. "I figured you might want a ride back to the Lima Bean.

"Thanks."

Kurt didn't shift the gears or lift the emergency break. Instead, he sat there not making any move to drive at all. In fact, all he did was stare at Blaine.

Eventually, the silence began agitating Blaine. "What?" He snapped at Kurt

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt asked.

"No." Blaine immediately replied.

Kurt obviously wanted to say something to him, but left it be and reversed out of the driveway. They didn't speak at all after the terse exchange.

The mood of the car perfectly complimented the dismal weather outside.

As they drove, Blaine began blocking out all thoughts – something he was becoming increasingly good at. While he did this, he stared out the window and watched the dotted yellow lines on the road as they skipped past.

Blaine didn't look up from the asphalt until the car turned into the Lima Bean. Kurt drove around the parking lot until he found Blaine's bike, then he pulled up beside it, and Blaine wordlessly got out.

. . .

As Blaine returned to bed that night he continued to feel that weightlessness and lost consciousness within minutes. When he awoke the next morning, he didn't so much as look at his reflection and ignored the bottle at the bottom of the garbage bin in the bathroom. Over the next few days piles of trash would slowly cover it until it became entirely buried and forgotten.

He continued to feel the same way as the day before**.**

As the days went by his mood and health took a sudden sharp turn for the worst. That and insomnia and headaches that once plagued him as a young teenager returned and haunted him day and night. The headaches came and went as did his appetite. When it came to sleep, there were nights where it was allusive until the early hours of the morning, and there were days where he was asleep as soon as school was over to when it began again the next day. It was no surprise when he fell ill that weekend and was bedridden until Monday. With no one to take care of him, it was a blessing that he was able to recover as quickly as he did.

It wasn't only his health that began to deteriorate either.

At school he and Kurt's interactions became scarce again. This was initially attributed this to the glee club's upcoming competition and the excitement that accompanied it - restricted only to glee club obviously. All of the New Direction's members were all buzzing about their competition. This meant more practices and the assigning of solos and songs, so naturally Kurt was running around pleasantly distracted and thrumming with excitement. Then after about a week of that the excitement died down and Kurt was distracted for a whole other reason, he was also seen in various places with Sam all of the time.

When Kurt finally did speak to him past the odd greeting, it was short and brusque as opposed to their normal friendly banter. The bell had just rung and Kurt skidded in much later than was usual. Blaine couldn't even get a word in before the teacher began the day's lecture, and Kurt wouldn't have been paying him any mind anyway. Blaine might have been worried with Kurt's behavior these past few days if he wasn't so selfishly annoyed at him. Blaine didn't take any notes or listen as the teacher continued to speak, and chose to sit back and brood instead.

At the end of class he barely noticed Kurt turn around until he said, "You don't have to go, but the glee club is going to regionals this weekend. So, there's that." He said unenthusiastically. Kurt didn't even bother to wait for a reply and left after a simple, "see you around."

* * *

**Next time on Do I Wanna Know...**

_Blaine - in a moment of desperation - stepped onto the toilet and perched there, praying for the two Warblers to leave quickly. Between the crack in the stall door, he could only see a sliver of platinum blonde hair._

_"I'd feel much better facing a competition audience if I wasn't the understudy. We don't have a chance without Blaine."_

_"Forget Blaine. He's God knows where right now. You - Nicholas future-Sterling Duval - __**you**__ are the Warblers lead singer and __**you**__ are going to kill that song."_

_"I love you."_

_. . ._

_Throughout the performance Kurt's gleaming eyes stayed glued to an invisible figure somewhere above the crowd, singing directly to it. Much of this barely registered in Blaine's mind. Had it, he might have realized this song was undoubtedly dedicated to him. _

_. . ._

_"I swear this is a__** den of sin!**__" A familiar pouf of red hair turned the corner._

_Blaine dove behind the receptionist desk until the woman passed by. Her shrill voice spoke into a phone loud enough to eavesdrop._

_"We'll see how long that lasts," she was saying. "I'll see you at brunch tomorrow, __**Senator Anderson**__. . . "_

* * *

**A/N: Believe it or not, I've had this chapter written(ish) for years... Let me know what you think!**


End file.
